


We Dark Things That Stalk in the Shadows

by Aleandri



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Asshole Gods with God Complexes, Cannibalism, F/F, F/M, Fantasy AU, Large Gods, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Vampires, Wendigos, small gods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleandri/pseuds/Aleandri
Summary: Village Book Keeper Will Graham has a secret that he's kept safely hidden from the villagers around him. After years of earning their trust and hiding his true self, the sudden appearance of the mysterious Count Lecter (who may or may not actually be a Small God) suddenly upends his quiet and mostly peaceful life.The promise of life in a great City's palace, and the favor of the Gods would be great for any human......but Will isn't human.Not entirely, at least.❤[PODFIC available inside]❤
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 81
Kudos: 247





	1. Being Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see where this goes, huh?

To listen to my sultry tones reading this story, click the links below:

And for mobile users, and those who want to listen offsite, please click the link below to be whisked away to my DropBox account:  
'We Dark Things- Chapter 1:' [Chapter One MP3 Link](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/z9wn9gec5drqi81/PODFIC%20WDT-1.mp3?dl=0)

** PROLOGUE:  **

It was cold.

The chill of the night air had teeth that bit into the man’s hands and feet; choked his throat. He needed to start a fire, and fast. And not just for the cold.

Shadows moved all around him as his trembling hands desperately rubbed at two dry sticks, willing a flame to life.

The shadows were edging closer, as if playfully eager. He brought the slightly smoking wood down on the sparse kindling he’d hurried to grab, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

If only he had a flame-surely that would scare the beasts away. Fire! He needed it like his life depended on it.

_OH, DEAR, said one of the faceless many watching the scene unfold. HE HAS SUCH A BIG FAMILY BACK HOME…_

The kindling caught with a puff of dry smoke, but also flames. Glorious flames.

_POOR MAN, another voice spoke in the silence, I DON’T SUPPOSE ANYONE WOULD LIKE TO…_

_There was silence among the many that gathered and watched._

_None would dare._

The man let out a gleeful sound as a large branch caught fire, grasping its end and swinging around with it like it was a broadsword.

The creatures barely withdrew, seeming to think little of the bright light and heat.

He could see their rippling fur as they continued to close in.

_I WOULD RATHER NOT WATCH, IF IT’S ALL THE SAME TO YOU, said yet another voice._

_NO ONE’S MAKING YOU. S’NOT LIKE YOUR NAME’S ON HIS LIPS, another voice snapped._

“N-No,” choked the man that desperately swung the branch all around in great, blurring swipes. “S-Sun God… help me!” he cried.

_There was an awkward silence from the gathered._

“W-War Goddess! Mother of Nature!”

_The silence grew increasingly uncomfortable._

His voice became a high screech. “HARVEST GOD! GOD OF THE FIRES!”

_WHAT-? LOOK I ALREADY LIT THE DAMNED BRANCH, a nervous voice hissed defensively._

The beasts closed in as one.

“GOD OF THE EVER-LOVING CATS, FOR THE LOVE OF MERCY-!!”

_WHAT DOES HE THINK I CAN DO ABOUT IT?_

_ENOUGH OF THIS, spoke a loud voice over the murmurs as the man’s screams pierced the dark night air. IT IS RIDICULOUS THAT NONE OF YOU ARE WILLING TO INTERVENE._

_EASY FOR YOU TO SAY, something whispered in the silence._

_I SAY-I SAID, I SAY THAT IT IS TIME. THIS MONOPOLY OVER THE WILDES MUST COME TO AN END. NOW IS EVERYONE IN AGREEMENT WITH THE PLAN?_

_A few voices rose with AYE’S._

_COME ON, NOW. WE’LL NEED EVERYONE. A Not-Face gave a very nasty look to the nervous crowd of those gathered. EVERYONE. IT’S ALL ALREADY IN PLACE. WE JUST NEED TO STICK TOGETHER AGAINST HIM. NOW, FOR THE LAST TIME-IS EVERYONE READY TO ENACT THE PLAN?_

_The gathered spoke as one, though most with a nervous lack of enthusiasm. AYE._

Their chorus almost drowned out the sound of flesh being ripped from bone.

Almost.

* * *

** PRESENT DAY **

“REPENT MORTALS! AND BEG THE GODS FOR FORGIVENESS!”

Will had to hand it to the priest- the man certainly woke up early to start spreading his message. It was barely dawn, and Will had been determined to rise early today and avoid the inevitable-

“FOR YE WHO AVOID THE TEMPLES-“ Will winced, having been spotted as he darted from shadow to shadow. “-SHALL BE KNOWN BY THE GODS AND INCUR THEIR HUNGRY WRATH!”

Will sighed and waved at the bright-eyed man in robes. “Good morning, Eustace. May your… uh, altar fires burn bright.”

“VERILY SHALL THEY BURN WITH THE FERVOR OF THE WORSHIPFUL!” The (over) zealous priest bellowed back at Will in the cold silence of the otherwise empty village street. “IF THE WORSHIPFUL BOTHERED TO ATTEND THE THRICE DAILY CEREMONIES!”

Now caught-out, Will left the safety of the shadows and made a direct line across the street and past the glaring priest. He mumbled a hurried, “Yes, well, you know how it is. No one to watch the shop if I leave…”

“IT IS THE DUTY OF THE FAITHFUL TO MAKE TIME FOR THE GODS-“ Will was urging his feet to move faster as the priest began to build up for a lengthy tirade on sinners, when the shutter of the nearby carpenter’s second level residence slammed open.

The furious howls of a baby could be heard from inside as Meredith Took’s head appeared and shouted back, “AND BLESSED ARE THE FAITHFUL WHO KNOW WHAT TIME IS APPROPRIATE TO PRAISE THE GODS!” She leveled both Will and the Priest with a glare that clearly indicated how she felt about being woken at such an early hour.

“AMEN!” came the many muffled shouts of the tired townsfolk from within the neighboring buildings.

“All hours belong to the Gods,” the Priest responded petulantly, but in a noticeably lower voice. Before Will could duck into the safety of the alley leading to his small shop, the Priest turned and asked, “Oh- and about my order!”

Will reluctantly stopped and half-turned to him, careful of the heavy basket in his hands. “Expected to arrive next week on the travelers’ carriage. That’s the quickest I could manage.”

Eustace was clearly not pleased, Will noted, as a faint plume of irritation radiated from him. “And what if it displeases the Gods that we are using outdated rituals, hmm? Do you wish a plague upon this village, young man?” 

Will forced himself to bite back a retort. The Gods in this region hadn’t set loose a plague in over a decade. And certainly not just because the latest of edition of ‘Modern Rituals and Appeasements’ hadn’t been distributed quickly enough. Will knew for a fact that many villages were still on the sixteenth edition and sacrificing rabbits twice a week to the Moon Goddess. (She had specifically ordered that nonsense to stop in the nineteenth edition, and none of THOSE villages had experienced a plague yet…). 

Instead of arguing, Will started his usual, tired explanation. “As you know, the books have to be transcribed by the prophets by hand, then set into print at the library in the Capi-“

“Yes, yes! I know the process,” the Priest waved his hand dismissively. “Did any newsletters arrive with that construction guild that passed through yesterday evening?”

“I checked with them shortly after they arrived at the Inn. They were carrying a few books for my shop, and several items of mail, but no newsletters or packages meant for the temple.”

The Priest sighed but nodded. “Right. Well, be sure to let me know immediately if anything urgent arrives.” His voice began to raise, changing back his sanctimonious bellow by degrees. “For the GODS ARE QUICK TO TEMPER AND REQUIRE IMMEDIATE OBEDIENCE TO THEIR DOCTRINES LEST THE UNWORTHY MORTALS-“

Will was already hurrying down the alley as echoes of what the Gods would do to the mortals was described in excessive (and entirely too gleeful) detail.

There were several new barrels, and one upturned trash bin, in the alley, making the already narrow walkway even more difficult navigate. Will would need to speak with the Tailor, Mr. Albright, about keeping the space clear for customers for Will’s shop. He dreaded the uncomfortable interaction, but it had to be said. Even though it was tucked away on the backside of the main street businesses, Will’s bookshop was one of the most important shops in the small village.

He reached the door and shifted the basket of groceries in his arms so that he could maneuver the lock and step gratefully inside. 

The thick smell of paper and ink settled his nerves and eased the headache that had started to grow at the sound of the Priest’s grating shouts. As the door shut behind him, the distant threats of punishment from the Gods died down to an almost bearable murmur.

Will leaned against the door and sighed.

No doubt the Priest had positioned himself on that particular corner of the square just to ask Will about the damn newsletters. It was one of the downsides of his job, being the town Bookkeeper, and one of the few villagers able to read and write proficiently. It was he who received and distributed the many newsletters, announcements, and laws that came from various parts of the country. It put him at the center of all religion, politics, and gossip.

_And that is the SAFEST place for you to be, Will. In plain sight._

His father’s voice from years ago reassured him. It was getting harder to picture his face, but his gentle, tired voice was as clear as ever.

_If you live where you can always be seen, no one will believe you have anything to hide._

Joel Graham had been right about that. Although the entire village knew Will to be unsociable and reclusive, they had no idea that it was for any reason other than personal preference. Any villager that described Will Graham would say that he was an awkward and quiet man.

‘Man’ being the important descriptor. As long as THAT part was never in question, the adjectives preceding it mattered very little.

Will settled the grocery basket on the small table of his back office, and carefully began separating some from the rest: a small portion of the bread loaf, two eggs, and only half of one of the oranges. He sat them all down neatly on a clean plate. 

One complete breakfast. He nodded approvingly before taking the serving and dumping it into the small trash bin hidden under his workbench. He would toss it out in secret later. The stray dogs will take what little they want from it (as well as the lunch and supper that would soon be joining it), and the rest will be scavenged by mouths and beaks of any other creatures that wanted it.

Will sat the plate and fork by his small sink, angling them so they were in clear view of anyone who happened to pass by the doorway into the office.

_You have to go through the motions,_ his father’s voice echoed in his mind, _even when you think no one will be checking. Show that you eat food, and sleep at night, and do all the same normal things that they do. Leave no doubt for them to latch on to._

And Will did. Even to this day. 

Buy food, pretend to eat it. Take frequent restroom breaks-the more poorly timed, the better. Take sick days and oversleep occasionally. Complain about needing a haircut, about growing out of clothes, about nausea and gas and being drunk. 

Act human.

Will sighed as he moved back into the front room to begin the task of unpacking the recent arrivals.

It was all so much work. A constant worry that he wasn’t pretending well enough. That people were always watching him with some degree of suspicion.

Which, of course, they were.

He was, after all, the son of a murderer. Who could say if young Will Graham was going to take after his father and suddenly kill a few villagers and burn down their house without any warning?

No one had seen it coming with Joel Graham. Maybe that same evil was hiding in his strange son…

And the Gods only know what his mother was like. Or who, for that matter.

Will caught himself frozen in place and staring at the row of bookshelves across from him.

He jerked, quickly putting himself back in motion with a subtle glance to the windows to ensure no one had seen him behaving ‘abnormally’.

He had to always be aware of himself and how he looked to others. Strange behavior was noticed. He couldn’t risk it.

His head throbbed and he rubbed his eyes. 

Such an annoyance, having a body. Even one that didn’t function like a normal human’s did.

It was so much easier when he left it behind….

_YOU MUSTN’T DO THAT AGAIN, WILL! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! NEVER GO SO FAR AWAY THAT YOU CAN’T GET BACK QUICKLY!_

His father had been crying when he’d shouted that. Pale and terrified and clutching at Will’s small body like he needed to feel the life coursing through it.

He had thought that Will had died. When he’d tried to wake him up that morning so many years ago, when Will’s body had been cold to the touch. He didn’t know what it meant, that Will had been gone so long from his own young body that it appeared to be a corpse.

Even when Will had tried to explain, when he excitedly recalled the world of shadows he had left his body to explore. He tried to explain to his father how everything had been so clear- vibrating with emotions, like everything in existence had its own music. How even the blades of grass hummed when his shadow form passed over them. 

And the forest! It was so different when he left his body behind. Filled with so much more than what was seen with human eyes!

But as soon as Will began to describe the creatures and spirits he’d seen, with their incredible shapes and laughing voices and songs…

…his father had shaken him roughly, voice edged with a fear and anger that Will had never heard in it before.

_NEVER GO THAT FAR AGAIN! NEVER INTO THE FOREST. TAKE WHAT YOU NEED FROM THE ANIMALS IN THE VILLAGE, BUT NEVER LINGER LONGER THAN IT TAKES TO FEED! WHAT IF YOU CAN’T COME BACK TO YOUR BODY? WHAT IF IT DIES WHILE YOU ARE AWAY!?_

_But, of course, Will HAD done it again. One more time. And it had been such a disaster..._

_The STAG..._

Will forced his body to keep moving as he remembered the promises he had made to his father.

Don’t leave your body for any longer than necessary.

Don’t go into the forest-stay in the village, no matter what form you are in.

And of course, NEVER drink the blood of a human.

Will’s head throbbed again, followed by a shiver sliding up his spine.

Sometimes he wished that he wasn’t human at all. That he could escape emotions as easily as he could slip out of his body.

Instead, through a vicious twist of fate, Will was hyper-sensitive to human emotion. Even so much as to pick up the emotions of those around him. It had benefits, especially when trying to camouflage himself amongst humans.

But it also had so _many_ downsides….

A sudden clatter from just outside his shop jolted Will abruptly out of his own head. With a small curse, he realized that he had stopped moving again and was staring blankly at the bookshelves. He had just enough time to be grateful for the inconvenience of the garbage bin in the alley before a shape appeared through the window, and Alana Bloom stepped quickly inside.

Will smiled at the sight of his one good friend, but it dropped at the expression on her face, paired with the barely visible cloud of anxiety she emitted.

“I didn’t want you to get ambushed,” she hurried to say, her blue eyes wide as they locked onto his.

“Oh?” Will stared back, confused.

The sound of the trash bin being kicked and bouncing off the wooden walls of the alley came from outside, and Alana cringed.

“Jack wanted to stop by to discuss-“ Alana was cut off by the man himself, who crowded the doorway, blocking out much of the dawning sunlight.

And he was furious (as usual). Will noted the scowl and emissions of anger.

“Would you please explain this to me?” Jack, the village mayor and Will’s primary employer, demanded, waving an expensive looking envelope at Will. 

Alana gave Will an apologetic look, before stating, “I told Jack to wait the night before asking you about it. The letter arrived from Chesapeake by private carrier late last night.”

There was a tense silence.

“Well?” The Mayor snapped after several seconds, “Anything you want to tell us, Will?”

Will’s mind unhelpfully supplied several ideas of things he could tell them, ranging from ‘the shop’s not open yet’ to ‘I drink blood to survive’. 

He chose, “No?”

Jack’s mouth tightened. “Well, then I will be happy to tell YOU,” he quickly yanked the letter out, scanning it to read aloud, “that ‘Mr. Will Graham, currently employed as the Village of Quantico’s Bookkeeper, is welcomed to fill the position of Palace Librarian for the City of Chesapeake at his earliest convenience!’”

Jack’s voice had escalated to a shout by the time he finished. Alana’s sad eyes had remained fixed on Will’s. 

“What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Graham?” The burly man crossed his arms expectantly.

Will flinched at the formal title, mouth sputtering. “I… I have no idea what is happening,” he finally managed, eyes shifting nervously from Jack’s goatee, to Alana’s ear, to the letter being crumpled angrily in the Mayor’s fist, and back to the goatee, because why not?

“So, you are telling me that you DID NOT apply to leave your position here and work in the new city?” Jack sounded extremely skeptical.

“No,” Will answered honestly. “Definitely not. I-I wouldn’t even know how to _try_ and apply for something like that.”

He watched Jack’s aura shift to something more like confusion, even though his face stayed in a tight frown. 

“So, you’re telling me that this-this Count Lecter _himself_ , wrote to confirm a position for you that you did not in _any way_ ask for?”

Will felt his eyebrows climb high as another tense silence filled the small space. 

“ _What?_ ” He asked weakly. “Count… who? What?” He repeated, finally making eye contact with each of them out of desperation. 

Alana mercifully stepped in, “You see, Jack? Will wasn’t aware of this at all. I told you, he would have let us know if he was interested in leaving the village.”

Jack visibly wavered, but argued, “Then why is the Count suddenly sending a royal messenger sixty miles East to hand-deliver employment papers to me?”

After another awkward round of silence, Alana reasoned, “He must have heard how good Will is at managing the Village’s bookkeeping.” It sounded weak, but in lieu of other possible explanations, Jack finally nodded.

“Right. Well.” He cast a frown at Will. “This is a problem. We don’t have anyone qualified to take over the shop here. Certainly no one that can do it as well as Will can. _What the hell am I supposed to do about that?_ ”

He barked the last part, clearly becoming more agitated as he considered the problem.

“I… wait-I’m not leaving,” Will finally stammered, as his brain tried to catch up from the shock of the letter’s origins.

Both Alana and Jack stared blankly at Will.

“Will, you…” Alana started carefully, her face looking pale as the sun finally began to shine in earnest just outside the windows. “You can’t decline the position. It’s from the Count, himself.”

“But it’s… it’s just an ‘offer’ for the position. He can’t have assumed that I would be able to just leave immediately.” Will found his feet and moved quickly to where Jack stood, holding his hand to read the letter for himself.

It was short. And handwritten in elegant script.

And very _succinct._

Will read it three times, mumbling the words to himself, and pausing over the phrase ‘is welcomed to fill the position’. The Count had ‘made all the necessary arrangement for his

prompt arrival’. And there was the very clear sentence at the bottom, stating ‘A carriage from the Palace will arrive to pick him up a five days after delivery of this missive’.

That left very little room for misunderstanding.

“I-I think we had better send a reply message back immediately to explain that I can’t take the position…?” Will meant it as a statement, but it sounded more like a question.

When it was met by silence from the other two, Will glanced up.

Both Alana and Jack were looking at him, in stunned disbelief. But what was starting pour off each of them felt like fear.

“That’s…” Jack finally began, shaking his head, “That’s out of the question, Will. No way.” He looked around, eyes scanning the room. “I don’t like this, obviously, but… well. You’ll need to get packed up. And I…” His energy turned sharply annoyed. “I need to find your replacement…” He trailed off with a scowl, muttering to himself.

“But I-I don’t _want_ to go,” Will replied. Then, more firmly, “I’m going to decline. I can’t just leave. I live here.”

“Will,” Alana’s voice was edged with concern, “you know that would be a big mistake. Not just for you, but probably the whole village. The Count… he’s at least favored by the Gods. Maybe even…” She frowned, eyes darting as she tried to find the right words. “There are rumors from the travelers lately. Many are sure he’s at least a Small God. I have friends, some of them all the way in the Capitol, that have mentioned him in letters when they heard he was building a palace nearby. They say he looks human, but…” She stopped, just shaking her head as she held his eyes. “You CAN’T decline, Will. Whatever he is, we can’t risk him getting upset and turning his anger on the village.”

Will considered her words, fidgeting uncomfortably as he felt the walls begin closing in on him. 

This was… _bad._ Definitely a worst-case scenario.

He was supposed to stay in the Village. At least for another ten to twenty years.

That was the safe plan. The one his father had sacrificed so much to ensure.

He had no concept for how to survive in another, unfamiliar setting. 

And in close proximity to a God? Even a small one-it would be impossible to hide what he is.

And in a CITY. 

One of the reasons that this village was such a secure place for him was that it was all-human (him being the secret exception). Secluded from most main roads and traveling routes, it wasn’t important enough for even the Smallest God to visit. Even the supernatural creatures were extremely rare and kept themselves to the forest when passing through. 

The villagers were quick to sound the alarm if they suspected a supernatural creature was anywhere nearby. Visitors and strangers were kept a close eye on by the town as a whole, everyone ready to take up a pitchfork or ax if an eye so much a glittered an unnatural color.

Will knew for a fact that the last three people chased out of the village by a mob were all human. In fact, the last definite supernatural person that had infiltrated inside had probably been…

…Will’s mother.

And even that had only been two very brief stops.

The first, to seduce his father and leave him barely clinging to life…

And the second, to shove Will-naked and still very new to the world-into Joel’s terrified arms before escaping back to wherever the Hell vampires come from. (Somewhere far north east, where morals were looser, if one were to believe the disapproving gossips.)

But, a City… specifically, the new city of Chesapeake, that was guaranteed to be host to all sorts of supernatural creatures hoping to gain protection and favor from this new Count. Will knew it to be a well-known fact that ungodly supernatural beings were considered vermin by the Gods. But, at the same time, they were also frequently utilized as tools to accomplish the will of the Gods, such as collecting sacrifices and inflicting terror on towns and villages that weren’t keeping in line with the local Gods’ wishes.

It had always sounded to Will much like a parasitic partnership. Supernatural creatures were allowed to leech off Gods so long as they were useful, and in turn, the creatures didn’t need to worry about waking up with a stake in the heart, or a silver arrow through the brain courtesy of an over-enthusiastic human. 

Will didn’t know where that put him, not technically being a vampire, but certainly something not-human.

He didn’t want to be a God’s _slave_ \- even a Small God’s. What if he was ordered to drink the blood of virgin sacrifices? Or be used as a non-human lie detector for potential enemies of the Count? Or any number of forced positions that a not-human, sort-of-vampire could be used carelessly for!? He’s been a bookkeeper for the last fifteen years-he didn’t want to seduce neighboring maidens with his wiles!

“…going to pass out- watch his head!” 

Will vaguely heard Jack’s orders as he felt his arm being gripped tightly. Alana was suddenly in his face, mouth moving as she spoke something that Will couldn’t quite hear over the roar in his ears. 

He felt himself try to slip out of his body, and that was the shock he needed. He forced himself to blink, then to jerk his head from one side to the other, and for fuck’s sake to STAY ANCHORED.

“Get him some water, Jack. He’s so pale…” Alana’s distress was assaulting him, soaking into his own emotions. He tried to wave her away as he sat up straighter, only then realizing that he was sitting on the floor, his legs having failed him at some point.

His head swam with another wave of panic, but he kept it at bay. 

Act normal. Act human.

“I’m… I’m good. I’m okay.” Will stammered, reaching up to take the mug Jack was bending to hand him. “Just… just a shock. Everything.”

He wasn’t making sense, he knew, but his thoughts were a blur of fear and confusion, making complex sentences nearly impossible.

Alana was seated on the floor at his side now, running her hand gently over his arm. “We understand. This is a very sudden change. It’s not easy for any of us. You’re a part of this village. But look on the bright side. Being a librarian in a palace, and to a Count who may even be a small God. Will, half the people who have traveled through the village lately were on their way to beg for work in the new City. It’s a great opportunity for favor and fortune.”

Will knew she couldn’t understand his concerns, with her not knowing what he really was- what he would risk. But she was right, wasn’t she?

Every human hoped to gain the favor of a God. Hell, even if the rumors were exaggerated, just having the favor of a Count with his own City was enough to set someone up for their life.

Will should be happy at this opportunity.

This was a chance any normal person would be thrilled to have…

Normal…

Glancing up to Alana gently patting his arm, and Jack shifting his feet with impatience, Will found himself muttering, “Yeah. Lucky me.”

What else could a normal human say…?


	2. The Journey to a New Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 Podfic is up, if you want to listen to my smooth as butter voice guide you through the story.

To listen to my sultry tones reading this chapter, click the links below:

And for mobile users, and those who want to listen offsite, please click the link below to be whisked away to my DropBox account:  
'We Dark Things- Chapter 1:' [Chapter Two MP3 Link](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/vl9w6fnjxq3bugy/WDT-Ch.%202.mp3?dl=0)

* * *

It was pre-dawn on the fifth day when Will found himself, and his meager valuable belongings, standing alone at the docking station awaiting the carriage sent by Count Lecter.

Will was all nervous energy and dread. The village around him already seemed like something foreign and unfamiliar.

_Not his home anymore…._

And he noted Jack, and even Alana’s absence during his departure.

_Not his friends anymore, apparently…._

Everything over the last few days had all happened so quickly. Word got out that he was officially leaving and… and nothing. People just accepted it as fact. No regretful words or sad goodbyes (except in Alana’s case, as much as propriety would allow). In fact, based on the gossip that he’d happened to overhear, many of the villagers were jealous that he was getting the great opportunity to go to the new City. There were even suspicious whispers of HOW he had come about such good fortune.

Mr. Albright, who had always been decent to Will as a neighbor, was eagerly spreading rumors that he could hear _goat sacrifices_ happening in Will’s shop through the wall at night. The general response to these rumors tended along the lines of… 1) Exactly how many goats are we talking about here? And 2) Who is selling goats for cheap this time of year…?

Will would have been mortified at the implication that he _sacrificed_ his way into employment, but he was more concerned with other pressing matters.

Such as how he would manage to feed himself in a whole new place, and the logistics of faking his being human.

Of course, he wouldn’t know until he got there and saw the City. Nothing to do but wait. And _dread._

But now the wait was coming to a close. Soon-- _very soon_ \--the carriage would arrive to whisk him away to a City unknown. Filled with strangers and the all-new and wretched emotions that came with them.

The _tap-tap-tap_ sound of nearby footsteps distracted Will from his self-commiserating.

He stared at the shadows in the direction of the footfalls and waited. Within a few moments, none other than the small frame of Abigail Hobbs herself turned the corner of a building, wearing a traveling cloak and carrying a heavy case with both hands.

Oh, gods.

Their eyes met immediately. Will hitched a breath, frozen in place.

She had her long, dark brown hair braided over one shoulder and was wearing a determined (but clearly frightened) expression on her young face. Her huge blue eyes dragged nervously away from Will’s, to look at the dirt near his feet. Even from the twenty foot or so distance, he could sense the fear and anxiety rolling off her.

“No,” Will refused, his voice hoarse in the darkness of impending dawn. “Absolutely not. Go home, Abigail.”

“I’ve made up my mind, Mr. Graham. Nothing you say can stop me.” She paced forward, into the faint glow of the torchlight coming from the carriage station, back straight and still avoiding his eyes, to plant her case down beside his own.

“They’ll not even let you board the carriage!” Will argued, frantic. “Listen, Abigail, this is a bad idea. You can’t just show up in a City with no plans or friends.”

“I have you,” she stated, jaw clenched and arms crossed. “You’ll take care of me, at least until I find a position somewhere.”

Will had many things he could say to that, ranging from ‘ _No’_ to ‘ _As if I have an actual plan, myself’_. But he already knew his words would be useless. He was helpless to deny Abigail Hobbs anything. She had the ultimate trump card….

_The young girl knew the truth._

_About him._

_About the fire that had killed both her parents and Will’s father those three years ago._

_She’d seen the Stag, too._

He wished he could ask her about how much she had seen. But he already knew the answer. _Enough._

No, Abigail Hobbs held Will’s deepest, darkest secret in her hands. Only their mutual terror and loss had kept her silent since the night of the fire. And even now, Will could feel her willingness to wield his truths against him if she did not get her way.

If Abigail wanted to leave this miserable little village behind… she would.

And Will had no choice but to let her.

He swallowed thickly. “I don’t know if the villagers will allow it, Abigail. Maybe if you--if you just wait. Wait until your old enough to leave on your own. _Hell_ , I’ll be accused of kidnapping you, I know it!”

“I’ve left Mrs. Patterson a detailed note. It’s my decision,” she replied stubbornly.

_God of Patience help him._ The villagers were going to have a field day with this. The son of a murderer dragging the daughter of his father’s victims to the City with him. Thank the gods he wouldn’t be around to have to hear it….

“The carriage men still may not let you onboard the carriage, you know,” he told her quietly.

“We’ll see,” she replied, keeping her arms crossed, waves of fear and determination coming off her.

-^_^-

The carriage men surprisingly _did_ let Abigail Hobbs onboard. And with no questions at all. In fact, the extravagant carriage had more than enough room. No one else was onboard.

Will turned to one of the four men loading his and Abigail’s trunks. “Are we picking up other passengers on the way?” he asked, confused.

“No, Mr. Graham. This carriage is for you, personally.”

Will stared at the man, dumbfounded. A whole carriage sent just to bring him to Chesapeake City. Even local lords rarely have such a privilege.

Will turned to find Abigail already inside, apparently eager to get going before one of the villagers happened to wake early and notice her plans.

Uncomfortable, but unsure what else to say, Will climbed aboard to join her.

The seats were a rich shade of velvet wine. It was…extravagant and comfortable. Will had never been inside a carriage before, having spent his whole life in the village, but he was certain from the carriages that he had seen passing through, that this was an overwhelmingly luxurious one.

Far too nice for a mere bookkeeper….

_What was really going on here…?_

-^_^-

The journey took most of the day. They stopped four times at small carriage stations in tiny villages, allowing Will and Abigail to use the restrooms and eat, all at the expense of Count Lecter’s coin held by the four carriage men. The four horses also needed to rest, feed, and be watered.

Fortunately, Will had drunk well from the village livestock the night before, so he did not really need to eat. But, to keep up appearances, he pretended to enjoy the meals and use the restrooms. Abigail watched him with careful looks each time, but blessedly said nothing.

The carriage ride itself was quiet in between the stops. When they did leave its comfort, they were gawped at by the impressed villagers, who were eager to see who rode in such splendor. Will felt all their amazement, and it made him cringe. These strangers’ emotions were bad enough. What would a whole city full of people feel like…?

Will did not have much to say to Abigail, and she did not appear to have anything to say to him. They were both bags of barely-held-together nerves, and Will felt as though he was twice as anxious due to sensing Abigail’s emotions.

Together they rode in silence toward their new lives.

Outside the carriage, between their village stops, the dangers of the Wildes lurked, always a threat. What monsters and beasts did the thick forest contain? Were they safe in a carriage with just four attendants sitting on the outside?

No, of course not. The Wildes did not care about humans, numbers, or even well-built carriages. The danger was real and present.

From their windows on both sides of the carriage, Will and Abigail both caught the occasional glimpse of hulking shadows and darting flashes of coarse fur shapes.

_Dangers untold lurked in the untamed Wildes..._

_Any prayers for safe passage sent to the God of the Wildes always went unanswered._

_In fact, many were of the opinion that prayers for safety sent to that particularly merciless Large God were intentionally and tragically contradicted._

_Better not to ask the God of the Wildes for anything at all._

As Will watched the lurking forms just off the roads from where they passed, he sent a small prayer to the Goddess of Travelers.

Who knows if she heard, or was even listening? Surely she had her hands full with other travelers around the world who were braving the Wildes on much more important journeys than Will's.

But the gesture made him feel a bit safer, nonetheless.

-^_^-

The Goddess of Travelers (or some other merciful god) may have actually heard Will, because their journey went completely uninterrupted by even so much as a wild boar on the roads.

It was already night after a long day of traveling when they passed the newly-erected gates of the City of Chesapeake. Both Will and Abigail strained against the windows, eager to glimpse their new home.

To Will’s surprise, the city was full of life, even at this late hour. It almost seemed equivalent to mid-day with all the hustle and bustle. And the people! There were so many people out and about. They passed merchants selling, couples strolling, children running and playing. It was a complete culture shock. Back in Quantico, the night meant the threat of monsters and mischief. All decent folk took themselves indoors shortly after sunset, sending a prayer to Sun God to be fast in returning.

But _this?_

This was nothing like the tiny village Will had left behind. And that was increasingly clear as it seemed to take forever just to navigate the bustling city streets to get to the castle at its center.

When they arrived at the castle gates, several guards open the great metal bars and…

_Wow._

_WOW._

Will has never felt so overwhelmed before. Not just by the press of so many emotions, but the sight of such an enormous series of buildings and towers.

The castle was an incredible structure, stretching high into the deep black of the night sky, set against the clouds and stars. As they were pulled over the flagstones through a well-manicured courtyard, all Will could think to himself was, ‘How and why am I even _HERE_?’

The carriage pulled to a stop under a brightly-lit entryway, and both Will and Abigail looked at each other expectantly. Her fear was almost smothering him.

“Ladies first,” Will whispered breathlessly.

“I’m not even supposed to be here,” Abigail quickly argued, her face pale as though she were reconsidering her decision to come along. “You’re the one they’re expecting.”

One of the carriage men opened the door. _Shit._

Will climbed out carefully, his eyes taking in the glamour and sheer magnificence surrounding him. Through the entryway, he could see yet more courtyard. Smaller, but just as elegant. Groups of well-dressed people were wandering happily under the light of dozens of torches, drinks in their hands. Laughter and chatter hummed and echoed across the stonework.

It looked like a party of some sort. Will cringed away.

“Welcome, Mr. Graham,” a heavily accented voice drawled as a figure in a suit stepped from where they had apparently been standing (and staring) from the shadows. “I hope your journey was not… _tedious_.” He uttered the word with an amount of disdain that struck Will as odd, as if tedium is something that should be avoided like an illness.

Will took in the man’s appearance. He was tall and well-built, though lean, his face a perfect, angular vision of how Will had always assumed royalty must look. Will knew without a doubt that this could only be the Count, himself. No one else could put off such an effortless air of ownership and entitlement that seems to match the grandeur of the castle itself.

But… nothing in the way of emotions seemed to be wafting from the man. Which was… _odd._

His suspicions were confirmed as the man continued in Will’s befuddled silence. “I am Count Lecter. Thank you for agreeing to take on the position here as librarian. I’m sure you’ll be more than up to the task.” The private smile he graced Will with was subtle, but it still made something in Will’s gut flip. He had never been charmed so thoroughly before.

_Why would the Count himself show up just to greet the new librarian? Surely, he could not do that for every new employee._

Will tried to imagine how he must look in comparison to the man. Straggly, curled brown hair and slight frame. Will knew he was considered tall, but the Count was several inches taller. And his clothes... Will had dressed in his best, but he felt severely underdressed compared to the other man.

At that moment, the Count’s piercing eyes left Will to stare at something behind him. The ease of his manner carefully and subtly shifted as he spoke. “And I see we have an… _unanticipated guest_.”

Will turned to see Abigail nervously poking her head around the carriage door. There was a moment of silence that could only be described as tense before Will realized Abigail wasn’t going to offer an explanation for herself. She pulled her wide eyes away from the Count to fix Will with a desperate look.

“This is, uh, Ms. Abigail Hobbs,” Will stated hesitantly. “I was, well… I think she could be of assistance to me, _er_ , with all my new duties. _At least_ …” He winced. “At least until I become _settled_ into the position,” he ended hopefully.

The Count’s eyes had remained fixed on the young girl’s face with a completely unreadable expression as Will spoke. There was another brief silence before the Count turned his gaze back to Will, his features returning to their previous look of ease.

“Of course. You must feel some degree of trepidation at taking on such a seemingly overwhelming new position. I would not deny you any help that you feel you need. Of course she may stay and help you, at least until you have become more settled into your new role. I will arrange accommodations for her.”

Will had the distinct impression that the Count was less than pleased with Abigail’s presence, but he had no emissions from the man to read and confirm.

“Now!” The man suddenly clapped. “The hour is late, and you have… _both_ … had a long day of travel. Mr. Graham, if you will follow Mister Price, he will show you to your room. I will have Miss Katz take care of Ms. Hobbs. I’m afraid I must attend to my party guests, but I trust you will be well taken care of in my absence.”

Several figures who had apparently been waiting silently nearby stepped from the shadows and gave quick and courteous bows before taking hold of Will and Abigail’s cases.

“Yes, thank you very much,” Will finally found his voice again. “Um, for the job and-and everything. We are very grateful.” Abigail nodded as she stepped hesitantly from the carriage.

The Count just graced Will with yet another subtle smile, as if he were enjoying a private joke. “Have a good evening, Mr. Graham.” He excused himself with a bow.

As he walked away to join his party, Will couldn’t shake the distinct feeling of… _danger._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kudos and comments so far. I love hearing from you all. Keep that tasty stuff a'coming.


	3. Beauty & Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the tasty kudos and comments so far!!

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* * *

Will was led through the sprawling castle grounds and into the echoing, carpeted hall. Beside him, Abigail stumbled, her mouth hanging open as she took in the splendor around them. Neither of them had ever seen such large halls, decorated with artwork, heavy curtains, and chandeliers-! Even the temple back home could not compare to the grandeur.

Will recalled Alana’s suspicions only days before. That the Count was possibly a small god, maybe pretending at being human for some mischievous purpose.

_Was it possible…?_

Will was beginning to suspect the rumors to be true. After all, who else could live so extravagantly unless some god or other was involved?

Abigail and Will separated at a stairwell that seemed to stretch straight up to the shadowed heavens above. Abigail and her mysterious escort went left, while Will was led up towards the darkness by his silent guide.

As they seemed to walk the entire length of Will’s village, he tried to pick up some sense of emotion off the stranger. But no matter how hard he strained his mind and focused on the man’s form, he couldn’t pick up anything. The absence of emotions was new to Will, but apparently it would be a theme here at the castle. First Count Lecter and now one of his manservants, both complete blank slates to him. Will wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or not. Hadn’t he always wished he weren’t burdened with being able to sense the emotions of others…?

They turned several corners only to find more hallways and paintings, chairs and chandeliers. And just when Will was positive that the castle could not be so large, they came to the end of a hall, where a door led up a spiraling staircase.

Will’s guide spoke for the first time then, his tone efficient. “Your private room is in the tower, just here.” He indicated for Will to go ahead of him.

Will could see the faint glow of light at the top. Stepping forward, he climbed the winding steps, passing several glass paned windows. He arrived at an alcove at the top, and--

_“This is not a room! This is--this is a whole house!”_ Will gaped, not sure where to look first. The huge space was open, the wall a massive circle lined with enormous windows, and even a--

“Is that a _balcony?!”_ Will’s head swam. Between the curtains, the massive candelabra hanging from the wall, and the huge bedframe, Will was confident that a mistake had been made. “This can NOT be my room,” he insisted, turning to his escort.

The man, Mister Price, nodded patiently. “Yes, sir. This is the librarian’s quarters. The Count is a very avid reader and considers the position of librarian to be one of the most important positions in the palace.” The man walked over to set Will’s case on the bench at the foot of the massive bed. “I’ve been instructed by the Count to ensure you are not hungry this evening. Would you like to feed before you turn in for the night?”

Will’s mind skipped at the phrase ‘ _to feed’_ , his heart suddenly picking up pace. “I--um, _what_?” he answered nervously.

“Your supper, sir? Are you hungry?”

Will swallowed, trying to calm himself. “Oh! Uh, no. No, I’ve eaten plenty today, I think. No need to bring anything.”

The man seemed to pause, giving him an almost curious look. “Very well, sir. If you change your mind, just pull on the bell there,” he indicated a large rope near the door, “and a servant will attend to your needs. Is there anything else I can do for you at this time?”

Will, his mind still reeling from all the shocks this evening had brought, could only shake his head.

“Very well, sir. When you are ready in the morning, please pull the bell, and I shall be happy to show you to your library and explain your duties. Good evening.”

With that, the man bowed and exited down the stairs. Will waited until he heard the sound of the door at the bottom shut before collapsing into the nearby dining chair. It was upholstered with velvet and trimmed in a gold finish.

Great gods, the damn dining chairs alone were probably worth more than Will’s entire furnishings in his little room back in the village…

Not for the first time, he had to ask himself how the hell he got here.

Will most likely would have stayed locked in the seat, wandering at the mad turn his life has taken, if the faint sounds of revelry weren’t drifting in through several of the slightly open windows.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he stood and walked to the balcony, opening the glass-paned double doors and stepping out into the brisk night air. Both the breeze and the view took his breath away….

Stretched before him was the entire city, flickering with lights in windows and the bustle of carriages and pedestrians moving beneath the star-speckled night sky. It had to be nearly midnight, but the energy pouring up from the scene felt like a festival.

And directly below him, in the maze of the castle grounds, was what appeared to be a very extensive garden, complete with several reflective ponds and fully grown trees.

And people. So many elegantly-dressed bodies were grouped together or wandering the paths in pairs. Will could hear the soft trill of music coming from one of the rooms somewhere below his tower.

Mesmerized, all he could do was watch with awe. His eyes followed couples stealing kisses in the faux seclusion of bushes before his attention was captured by the sudden peals of laughter from a large group, then to another couple having a private dance under a willow’s curtained branches.

And accompanying all of this was the wafting sensation of emotions, teasing at Will’s mind and fully capturing his thoughts. It was…

“… _beautiful_ ,” Will whispered to himself.

From the seclusion of his private shadows, he could watch the scale of human emotions play out to the accompaniment of music, all without the mortification of being present and involved in it.

-^_^-

Will stayed there, on the balcony, people-watching and riding the ups and downs of the many emotions for several more hours, until the bodies thinned out and finally were gone. Servants strolled the ground, extinguishing the many torches and firepits throughout.

After a few more minutes appreciating the expanse of stars and the slowly dying down bustle of the city, Will withdrew back into his room.

It was still several hours before it would be appropriate to pull the bell and begin his new job. Will satisfied his time by unpacking his case and neatly putting his few possessions away. To his surprise, a wardrobe to the right of his bed was already stocked to bursting with clothes. More shocking, they appeared to be very close fits for him.

Will stared hard at the clothes for several minutes. It had been bothering him persistently since his letter had come six days previously….

The Count must have some degree of knowledge of Will. The well-sized clothes were the clencher. How could the Count have anticipated Will’s size and build so accurately, if he had only heard of Will as the Quantico Bookkeeper…?

But surely it must be secondhand knowledge. Will was positive he could not have forgotten meeting the Count before. And how _could_ he? If the Count had passed within twenty miles of Quantico, that would be ALL the villagers talked about for the year.

No, it was impossible that he and the Count could have met. So then, what? Could servants or friends of the Count perhaps have passed through the village and encountered him? Then passed on their impressions to the man himself…?

_How in the hell had the Count known of Will…?_

Shaking himself from the perplexing questions and suppositions, Will decided that the best way to know would be to ask around. Maybe the servant from before, Mister Price, would know who recommended Will for the position.

Yes, Will would find a chance to ask the man sometime during the tour of the library tomorrow. It was decided.

With that question put to rest for the time being, Will finished unpacking and sat on a very plush armchair with one of his favorite books, settling in to read for the rest of the night hours.

-^_^-

“Good Morning, sir.”

“Uh, good morning, Mister Price,” Will greeted the man from where he stood in front of the stairs leading up to his room. As the morning grew closer, Will found himself actually becoming eager to see the library and have a chance to peruse new books. It was the first time Will could accurately say that he felt ‘giddy’ about something. The closest he had ever come to the feeling was when he knew a new and anticipated book would be arriving by post for his shop. So it was no surprise that the promise of a room full of books would be enough to have him eagerly waiting for his guide barely after dawn had broken.

“I’ve been instructed to see if you would like to feed this morning, sir…?”

And there it was again, that particular phrasing that kept making Will freeze with unease. Is that the ‘proper’ way of saying ‘to eat’…? Something the rich said differently from average folks?

“I…” Will hesitated. He was feeling peckish, but not for breakfast food. But perhaps he should be hungry by now? Would a normal human need to eat after the many meals they had been graced with on the road throughout the day yesterday? Will decided that he could forego breakfast on the premise of being excited about his new job. “I’m actually more interested in seeing the library and getting started on my job this morning, but maybe a tray of something could be brought up for me to snack on later?”

Mister Price blinked at him.

Will winced. Had he said something suspicious?

“Yes, sir. I can arrange a light snack to be brought to you soon.” He gestured down the hall. “If you are ready to begin, sir, I shall show you the way to the library’s main entrance.”

Will caught on the words ‘main entrance’ but decided to save his questions until later. He again followed the man through the many halls and passageways, taking the time to examine the paintings more closely than the previous night. As his eyes caught on the first several they passed, Will almost tripped over his own feet.

What he had thought to have been simple nature paintings and landscapes were--

“Ye Gods! Is that lamb _eating_ that maiden!?” Will found himself gasping.

“Ah, yes. That one is titled ‘Surprise of the Innocent’. It has several companion pieces around the palace. The Count is a… _collector_ , of sorts,” Mister Price stated matter-of-factly before continuing to walk.

Will followed again, but he could not resist the urge to look closer at all the paintings now. They all had a very clear theme, though Will was hard-pressed to say exactly what the theme was.

The words morbid and ironic kept coming to mind….

They came to a sudden stop in front of a set of heavy double doors, surprisingly not too far from Will’s tower. Mister Price moved to open the doors and--

“ _My. Gods,”_ was all Will could breathe out.

_It was… incredible!_

It was one huge room spanning two levels, with huge shelves creating aisles on both sides of the first floor. Several ladders led up to the second floor, which was a full wraparound balcony filled on almost every wall with yet more shelves. Four huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling, unlit because of the wall of windows against the far side, overlooking the gardens supplying more than enough light.

Will found himself frozen in place, unable to enter the room. He just stood stupidly at the entrance, staring in, like a beggar watching a restaurant full of fat patrons dining. He didn’t feel allowed to enter such a magnificent space.

And it was supposedly all his responsibility. He was librarian of it all.

Will knew now why he was here.

_The gods were playing a despicable trick on him._

What other possible reason could there be? He must have offended them by being born a miserable halfling, and this was how they would torture him. They would show him all of this that he might have, and then something was going to go horribly wrong.

But if that were the case, then all Will could do, really, was enjoy this feeling of wonder and excitement for as long as he could before it was snatched away.

With that, he stepped into the room and spun to take it all in. The smell of ink and paper and leather and wood formed a magical scent that Will greedily sucked into his lungs.

Absolutely _marvelous_. Will was reeling.

“I take it you approve,” a thickly-accented voice spoke.

Will flinched and turned sharply. Where Mister Price had been standing, the count now stood, and Will’s guide was nowhere to be seen.

Will caught his breath, but he could not keep the excitement out of his voice when he choked, “It’s amazing!”

The Count smiled gently, eyes gleaming. “So, you will be taking the position as custodian here, then?”

It was a question, as if there were any doubt that Will could possibly turn down the opportunity now, after having seen the library.

“I--yes. Yes, of course! If--that is, if you think I’m up to the task,” Will stuttered, nervous under the man’s sharp gaze.

“I’m confident you will manage exceptionally well, Mr. Graham.”

Will hoped that was the case. But the comment reminded Will of his question from the previous night. “ _Uh_ , sir, I mean, my Lord, _er_ …” Will tried to begin.

“Hannibal, please. I find titles to be… _impersonal_. Don’t you think?”

“I--If it pleases your lordship,” Will managed, slightly scandalized at the idea of calling such an imperious-looking figure by his given name. “Um, Hannibal,” he tried again, the name feeling odd on his tongue, “I was wondering, how did you come by my name for this position?”

“ _I have my ways,”_ the man answered cryptically, that soft smile growing slightly wider.

Will could not help but feel like the two of them were sharing some sort of inside joke, but Will couldn’t figure out the punchline.

Before he could say anything else on the matter, the Count’s demeanor changed as easily as a man shrugging on a jacket. “Why don’t I leave you to explore, for now. Your duties are simple, maintain order with the books and the room. Keep a log of any books that are borrowed.” He indicated a large, leather-bound ledger in the center of the room, surrounded by comfortable-looking sofas and end tables. “I’m afraid I must attend to several guests’ needs for my attention,” that little smirk reappeared, “but I’ll be back to check on you later this evening, _Will_.”

A little thrill passed through Will at hearing his name spoken softly by the man. “Yes, of course. Please don’t let me keep you away from your guests, my Lo--uh, Hannibal.” Will nodded nervously. He was awarded with yet another smile before the Count nodded at him and turned to leave.

Mister Price reappeared, passing the Count with a careful bow while balancing a tray.

Will released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as the Count exited the room. Mister Price deposited his tray on one of the end tables with a courteous bow to Will. “Your breakfast snack, sir. Is there anything else I may get for you at this time?”

“Oh, thank you. No. I--I think I’ll be fine for now. Thanks. Uh, perhaps when Abigail wakes, you could have her sent in here to, uh, assist me?”

“As you wish, sir.” The man bowed again and left, closing the large double doors behind him.

Will blinked away his nerves in the new silence of the library. The Count--Hannibal--certainly had a presence that was overwhelming. But…

There was something about how easily he spoke to Will, and how he seemed to share a private joke. Something between just the two of them…

It was… _nice_.

_Almost,_ dare he say _, friendly…._

This might actually work out, Will began to think, hopeful. He just needed to maintain his impression of being human, and it was quite possible that this really could be a long-term position for him.

Speaking of, Will reminded himself... _Breakfast_. He needed to find a way to discreetly dispose of the meal Mister Price had delivered. Maybe there was an inconspicuous trash bin, or someplace he could hide it until the end of the day….

Will walked over to the tray, thinking of how best to get rid of the contents, only to find that there was a single goblet on the tray.

That is…

…a goblet full of blood.

That is a _goblet._

Full of _blood_.

They brought him a goblet. Full of _blood_. As a breakfast snack.

Will felt cold as his shadow form nearly bailed out of his body in shock.

_They know._


	4. Unique

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____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was a little less than an hour before the heavy doors to the library opened again and Abigail was escorted inside. Will watched from the far corner of the library where he had ducked to hide out until he could wrap his mind around the mortifying idea of being _known_.

“Ms. Hobbs, sir?” Mister Price called out.

Will hesitated before calling back, “Uh, yes, thank you!”

He could see the man bow once, in Will’s general direction, before excusing himself and leaving Abigail standing stock-still near the doors.

As soon as the door was closed, Abigail rushed towards the sound of his voice. As she turned the corner to where he was ducked down, waves of anxiety rolling off her, she hissed, “The lady, Miss Katz, is-is _something_!”

“What?” Will asked, his own, more immediate problems at the forefront of his mind. “Something…?”

“Her _eyes_ glowed in the dark!”

“What?!” Will repeatedly stupidly.

“Her _EYES_ glowed in the _DARK_!”

“Ye gods,” Will muttered, heart racing. “Well, it tuns out they know what I am.”

“What!?”

“They brought me blood to drink for breakfast,” he whispered back, pointing toward the still-full goblet of blood sitting on one of the tables.

“ _WHAT!?_ ” Abigail looked scandalized. “Well, what does it all _mean_!?”

“I don’t know,” Will answered back honestly, trying to wrap his mind around everything like he had been doing for the past hour. “I think… maybe they’re okay with supernatural creatures here…?”

Abigail seemed at a loss for words, her face pale as she shifted worriedly from foot to foot. “Am--am I in danger then?”

Will was thrown by the statement. “Wha-I… Abigail, I don’t know. I-I don’t think so.” And it felt weird to Will to be comforting someone else when it had always been _him_ that had been the one in danger from being different. “No, I’m- I’m sure you’re not the only human here. That’d be crazy… _right?_ ” Will had meant to sound reassuring but it came out like a question instead.

_Was it possible that the Count had more supernatural creatures roaming the palace halls? Did he intentionally employ them?_

The possibility had Will’s mind racing.

_Imagine it--a whole castle full of supernatural beings like himself. It didn’t seem possible…_

_No, surely there were humans, too. And the City itself. Most if not all the citizens must be human._

_So, then, what?_

“I think… you’d better go back to the village,” Will finally said.

“But you just said you don’t think I’m in danger!” Abigail wheezed, eyes going wide.

“Look! I don’t know what’s going on here anymore than you do! I’m just saying you’d be safer for sure if you had never come with me to this place!” Will snapped back, trying to maintain some semblance of calm.

Abigail’s mouth pursed, her emissions seeming to shout ‘no’ before she could even say it aloud. “No. I’m not going back there to be the daughter of the murdered family again. I hate the stares and the pity. I want a new life!”

“Then go somewhere else! Anywhere but here.”

“No. We don’t even know what’s going on. And…” She hesitated, resolve sprouting from her. “And I know how to find out.” With that, Abigail stomped from their hiding place behind the shelves and stopped at the rope bell by door. To Will’s horror, she pulled on it.

“What are you _doing_?!”

“This isn’t the sixteen hundreds anymore. I’m going to ask someone directly.” Her voice sounded determined, but she shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot.

It didn’t take more than a minute for the door to open, and an unfamiliar man stepped in. He had dark hair and sideburns, and he stood almost as tall as Will. He gave Abigail an unconcerned side glance, but addressed the room itself instead of her when he asked, “How may I be of assistance, sir?”

“Yes, we had a--a question,” Abigail began, her eyes darting to where Will was still stubbornly hiding. “ _Um_ , we’ve _noticed_ … _Well. We…_ “

And she had started off so strong, too. Will gathered his courage and emerged from the shelves to rescue her. “Mister Price brought me, _uh, blood_ as a snack this morning.”

The man nodded at him. “Yes, sir. Was it not to your taste?”

Will had no answer to that, so instead he asked more quietly, “Is it… _human_ blood?”

“Of course, sir,” the man responded promptly.

There was a silence as Will tried to find words to explain that he only drank from animals, but Abigail had apparently found her voice and demanded, “How many other monsters are working here?”

Will sucked in his breath at her audacity. The man gave her a look that Will could only interpret as cold dislike. “We don’t appreciate that term… ma’am.”

Abigail flinched away, though Will wasn’t sure if it was because of his tone, or because he used the term ‘we’, meaning he was one of said monsters.

Will jumped in quickly to deescalate the rising tension. “What she means, is, _um_ , we’ve come from a small village where there weren’t any supernaturals, _uh_ , well except _me_. We’re just curious if we should expect to meet many more working here at the castle…?”

The man turned back to Will, his face seeming to relax. “I see, sir. You will find that the Count is an employer who values etiquette and efficiency over whether one is human or not.” He gave a displeased side-eye to Abigail. Will couldn’t pick up emotion off of him, but it seemed clear that he did not think highly of her. _Not good…_

Apparently unable to read a person as well as Will (or at all), Abigail blurted out, “What are _you_?”

“ _Abigail!_ ” Will winced.

“It’s… _fine_ , sir,” the man said, though he addressed Will, instead of Abigail when he answered proudly. “I am a member of the _Lupine_ family. Commonly called a werewolf.”

Abigail gasped loudly, distancing herself from the man by moving quickly behind a table. Will felt embarrassed by her reaction, though the man seemed to ignore it.

“That’s, well, that’s _nice_ ,” Will stuttered, trying to take in the fact that the man standing calmly before him was actually a shapeshifter. “I- _uh_ , I wonder, do you happen to know what, _um_ , I am?” Will asked, because this may be one of the few chances Will had to put a name to what exactly he was.

“Only that we are to address you as a vampire, but we make _allowances_ if you direct us otherwise.”

“I see,” Will responded, becoming eager for answers finally. “And are there many other vampires with… _er, allowances_ like me here?”

The man’s eyes seemed to gleam as he answered lowly, “No, sir. We are to understand that you are very… _unique_ … as a vampire.”

“Unique…?” Will repeated dumbly.

“Yes, sir. We have many vampires here at this castle, but the Count has made it clear that you are… not the same as they are. A _novel_ vampire, if you will, sir.”

“ _Novel_ …” Will blinked at the man, nodding. He was more than a little disappointed to hear that he was the only one of his kind they’d ever encountered. “That’s… no one’s ever, _uh.._. That’s… Well. Thank you, Mister…?”

“Mister Zeller, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with at this time? Perhaps a different choice of beverage. The kitchen staff will be happy to obtain whatever you prefer.”

Will felt the twinge of hunger, and, well, his secret was _already out anyway_ , so he answered, “I, well, I actually prefer livestock, but, _um_ , always fresh _, er_ , from the source. Is there, maybe, a stable or somewhere that I could, _um_ ….” He glanced quickly to Abigail who had a slightly revolted look on her face, and that shut him up.

But Mister Zeller didn’t seem at all perturbed by the question. “Of course, sir,” he answered with a bow. “I shall be happy to show you to the stables. If you’ll just follow me…”

Will followed, turning briefly to tell Abigail to stay in the library and that he’d be back shortly. He left her gaping after him with a horrified look on her face and sense of disgust in the air.

  
-^_^-

  
Mister Zeller guided will outside and around the castle garden until they ended up crossing into the stables on the south-facing side of the castle walls.   
Mister Zeller excused himself, telling Will that he would return shortly to see him back to the library.

Will watched him go with a feeling of almost awe at the very idea that the man (or, uh, werewolf) knew he intended to feed on the horses, and didn’t seem perturbed at the idea in the least. Incredible.

Moving into the stables, Will sought out a private area to rest his body. The air was thick with the smell of hay and horse and wood. 

It seemed… odd to be doing this in broad daylight, having always had to use his shadow form in the dead of night, where there would be no witnesses. 

Well, he practically had Mister Zeller giving him permission… 

And there technically still weren’t any actual witnesses since the stables were empty…

He propped himself in a discreet nook, near a few barrels and a black mare’s stall. 

Letting his body relax and his head lean against the wall, Will allowed himself to

F  
L  
O  
A  
T

Up and out. He found himself standing over his mortal body, staring down at it. It looked as if he were merely in a deep sleep. Such a weird sensation, seeing himself from the outside…

Deciding to be quick before Mister Zeller or someone else could show up and… see… him, Will turned to the selection of horses in their stalls.

As usual, his sight in this form was especially heightened to see emotions. The horses themselves were radiating contentedness. The dust seemed to dance in the golden sun rays, mixing in the air with vibrations of nearby sounds. The occasional whinny or bird song trickled through the air like music. Everything was just…

…so much MORE.

It was glorious to Will. And the daylight-!

The bright sun outside the stables seemed to make everything so much more alive than in the dark of night that Will was used to.

It took all his focus to pull his attention away from the drops of water streaming down a nearby gutter, and the happy fluttering of one of the horses enjoying their feed sack. But he managed to shake himself free of the beautiful distractions. He didn’t have time to fall under their spell.

He decided on an older brown mare with large white speckles towards the entrance he had entered through. This horse seemed calmer than the rest as his shadow approached her, and she vibrated with peaceful emotions. She barely shook her head or flicked her tail as he stepped through the wood of the door into her stall like a ghost passing through the air…

Will ran his shadow-like hand over her neck, feeling the rush of her blood pulsing beneath it. Hunger made him vibrate, a feeling of static and faint itchiness. He ran shadow lips over her, before sinking his phantom teeth in.

The rush of life practically slapped him, causing him to try and grip her with hands that barely had enough solidity to them to so much as move a hair of the horse’s mane. Swallowing deeply, Will felt the flow of hot blood filling emptied ghost veins of his form, and warming the cold shadow of him. He crooned happily at the sensation of life entering and coursing through him. 

He didn’t take much at all, especially since he felt the urgent need to hurry up and get it over with before he was discovered. The fear of being caught and seen in this form was still terrifying to him, despite the easy acceptance Mister Zeller had shown.

He separated himself from the mare as he felt her dropping down to her knees to rest. Always a good sign that an animal was weak from blood loss, but it was reassuring that he hadn’t taken too much. He stepped back, buzzing at the feeling of fullness and contentedness. 

He patted the mare lovingly with a phantom hand before turning and--

\--and there sat Count Lecter, looking elegantly poised atop a wooden barrel not far from Will’s empty body.

The shock made Will’s entire shadow form waver erratically. HOW!?

Will had chosen the resting place because it was far from the two entrances on both ends of the stable. How had the other man managed to pass him and be seated so covertly?!

Will froze under the man’s curious stare, panicked. He’d only ever had eyes on himself in this form once before, three years ago. When Abigail and her parents had witnessed him out of his body the night of the fire and so much death.

_The night of the STAG._

And on top of that, the man looked… different… to Will’s shadow eyes. Taller, and more… exotic. And there were things extending up from his head like great branches of a tree. The not-man’s whole form seemed to be constantly in motion, rippling like it was still trying to decide if it would stay human-shaped or take on a bigger, less human form.

“Excuse me, Will, it wasn’t my intention to interrupt your meal,” the man stated, his accented voice sounding like musical notes on Will’s ghost ears. It almost made Will hum to the tune of it… or perhaps that was the fresh blood daze. “Mister Zeller indicated you would need assistance finding your way back to the library.”

An excuse, Will knew with a surprising amount of certainty. The Count had almost definitely put himself here with every intention of seeing Will exposed in this form.

It prickled like annoyance in Will. The idea that the man would come to watch, then practically lie about it. 

He wanted to say something harsh and reprimanding, but this form didn’t have the substance to speak. What it did have was the ability to project emotions, so Will satisfied himself with emitting disbelief and irritation towards the man, for all the good it would do.

To his surprise, the man chuckled, eyes crinkling as the waves of Will’s annoyance ghosted over to him.

“Yes, a weak excuse, I admit. Please accept my apologies.” 

For the second time in a few short minutes, Will’s shadow rippled with shock. The question rolled off him and fluttered to the Count, who nodded.

“Yes, I am… receptive… to shades’ emotions. My vampire acquaintances tend to be careful at expressing themselves around me. I find it comes in handy with their kind, having a tendency as they do for… misleading. A quirk of most vampires’ personalities, I’ve found.” He said it as if more to himself than to Will, but he finished with a smirk in Will’s direction. 

More than a little stunned by the admission of being able to pick up on emotions (like me… Will couldn’t help but think), Will could only stand there, shadow form fully exposed to the man, staring.

_Antlers_ , his brain finally supplied. _The shadow masses extending like tree limbs from his head resembled antlers…_

_Not human…_ he thought, amazed. _But, then, what…? What creature had antlers and a human form….? Some sort of shapeshifter maybe._

He must have been emitting some intense curiosity because the Count cocked his head to the side and asked, “What do you see, Will?”

Not sure how to respond without words, and a voice to speak them, Will stepped carefully forward, inching warily towards his prone body.

The Count made no move to stop him, just watching his progress with polite interest.

Will hovered over his body for a moment, glancing nervously at the Count sitting just a few feet away, before

_F_  
_L_  
_O_  
_A_  
_T_  
_I_  
_N_  
_G_

_Down._ The abrupt sensation of being anchored and feeling nerves and hearing a heart thumping in his chest caused his breath to catch, as it always did upon his returning to his mortal form.

Blinking, Will sat up and frowned towards the Count.

_“What… what are you…?”_

“I’m a Count,” the man replied with glittering eyes. “And a collector of… _unique things_.”

Will couldn’t help but huff a little at the man’s obvious deferral. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

The two of them stared at each other for several moments. Will knew he was emitting nervous frustration, and knew, too, that the man could feel it rolling off him in waves.

“Would you join me for a picnic tomorrow, around lunch time?” the man suddenly asked, catching Will completely off-guard.

“I-- _what?_ ”

The man smiled disarmingly, teeth appearing to Will to be just a bit too sharp. “A picnic, somewhere away from here. I bore of dining in the Hall and with my guests. Perhaps something more… _personal._ I must admit, I have many questions for you, as well. We could have an… _exchange._ ”

“If… if your lordship wishes it,” Will managed, climbing carefully to his feet on numb, tingling legs. It wasn’t as if he could say no to his employer and the lord of the castle. But Will found he didn’t want to say ‘ _no_ ’. He had so many questions for the man, questions about himself and vampires and whatever the Count really was, that he actually felt genuinely eager as he added, 

_“I think I’d like that very much.”_

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else not feeling much love for Abigail...? Lol
> 
> Thanks so much for the Kudos and Comments so far! I'm one of those nerds who does the math on the ratio of kudos/Hits. Out of about 750 hits, I've got a whopping 80 kudos, which is fantastic! 
> 
> Much appreciated to all of you who took the time to bump my numbers up. I'll do my best to keep the chapters coming! *jazz hands*


	5. Revelry & Revelation

To listen directly from this site (not yet available for mobile users) you should see a small audio player directly below:

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_[…a vampire’s corporeal form and their non-corporeal form are the same. They have the ability to solidify their non-corporeal form. This allows them to appear human. However, they are limited to only taking on the form they had when they were humans. This limitation can be negated by their ability to emit a glamour, which makes them appear more attractive to humans. This defense mechanism is considered one of the most dangerous aspects of a vampire’s abilities, and is especially…]_

“I’m bored.”

Will looked up from the book he was reading to glance over at Abigail. The young woman was laid out on one of the many sofas in the room, picking at a tray of fruits and cheeses that Will had asked be brought up for her barely an hour ago, when she had first begun complaining of being bored.

Will sighed. “We’re in a huge library, Abigail. Try reading a book.”

Discontentedness rolled off the girl in waves. “I hate reading,” she mumbled, wafting frustrated energy.

Will felt a twinge of empathy for her. “There’s plenty of good books here that you may actually like. Want my help to find one?”

“What I _want_ is to go to the party,” she huffed.

Will nodded, looking towards the many French doors leading out to the gardens, where the not-too-distant sounds of merriment and music could be heard. _Did the Count really have a party every evening?_

The sounds had started just as the sun finally began to set about thirty minutes prior. To be honest, Will was tempted to climb up to his room in the tower to watch the partygoers again, like the previous night. He wanted to dive into their many emotions and dance along with their laughs and the music. The library had only had a few quiet guests that stopped by to drop off and pick up books the entire day. It was tempting to call it an early night, and to take the book on vampires he was reading with him back to his room.

The temptation was only increased by Abigail’s restless energy. But she wasn’t interested in just watching the festivities….

“I bet no one would even notice me, really,” she whined, getting to her feet in agitation. “And I have a good dress that I never got to where back in the village. I’d fit in--no one would say anything.”

“ _Abigail,_ ” Will warned, “you’re not even supposed to be here in the city, let alone attending parties uninvited. If the Count saw you there, I don’t think he’d be happy about it.”

“So? It’s not like he cares about the people he keeps around him. Werewolves and--and other _weird things_. At least I’m human.”

“ _Abigail_ ,” Will hissed, looking nervously around the expansive room in case someone had slipped in and overheard the rude comment. The Count did tend to show up at the most awkward--

“What a… _charming_ young woman,” a voice spoke, a woman strolling into the room from one of the doors to the garden. “I see the staff was right about her… _character_.” The woman was breathtaking; a vision in a deep red off-the-shoulder dress, with blonde hair tied in curls and sitting perfectly atop her head. “But then, interesting people always seem to keep interesting company.” She turned her blue eyes from Abigail’s frozen frame to Will’s.

“I’m so, so sorry about that,” Will stuttered, climbing to his feet quickly and even offering a small bow. The woman looked important, clearly one of the Count’s party guests. “We’re just, um, not used to so many, er—"

“Yes, I hear you come from one of the small villages several counties away. You don’t see much… _society_ … in those parts.” She offered a small smile, moving gracefully towards Will, who tried not to cringe away from her beauty. “The Count seems very interested in you, young man. It’s all he has spoken of in the last few days. His ‘ _rare’_ and ‘ _unique’_ librarian.” The woman was close enough for Will to touch, her pale skin seeming to dance in the lights of the dozens of candles burning in the chandeliers above. “My name is Lady Bedelia.”

“Oh, yes. It’s our pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I’m Will. Will Graham. And this is my, er, assistant Abigail Hobbs. Can I… Is there something I could help you with?”

Up close, the woman was even more beautiful, practically flawless and dripping with elegant grace. She reminded Will strongly of the Count--all intimidating bearing and secret half-smiles. Will tried to get a sense of something off of her, but much like the many members of staff filling this place, she was emitting nothing that he could pick up on. Will was beginning to regret wishing his empathetic senses away. Now that he couldn’t use it, he missed the ability to read others. Without them, he was just… _awkward_. More awkward, at least.

“I’m just taking a break from the party, and I decided that this would be a good chance to see what all the fuss is about.” She eyed him up and down for several critical moments, before turning as she continued. “Reading up on vampires, I see.”

Will flinched, realizing she must have noticed the book in his hands. “Ah, yes. Well, I plan to read more about all the various supernatural types that are, um, around here. Just to make sure I, well, to be sure that I don’t—"

“Offend someone?” The woman gave him a soft smile over her shoulder before turning her gaze to Abigail. So, she must have overheard their conversation before. _Damn._ Will exhaled a curse, gearing up to apologize on Abigail’s behalf. But the woman, Lady Bedelia, stated, “It can be intimidating, being in a new place, with so many new… _people._ Of course, you’re both overwhelmed.”

Abigail, finally unfreezing, just nods her head emphatically, eyes wide as she stared at the beautiful woman.

“I think you’ll find that to be a rather common theme here. The Count is a… _collector_ of things and people. No doubt you’ll fit right in in no time…” She gave Will another secret smile, but her eyes stayed cold, like ice.

“I--uh, yes, I hope so,” Will murmured, feeling like he was just subtly insulted somehow. The woman gave away nothing as she took a turn about the scattered sofas, strolling almost as if she were dancing.

“There are many good reasons to have the favor of the Count. He is… _influential_ in many important circles. Lucky you, to have caught his eye… for _now_ , at least. He does lose interest in his little hobbies so quickly…”

Now Will was more certain of it--this woman was poking him, trying to get some sort of reaction.

Determined not to play her game, Will stated, “I’m just here to work. I don’t need any special attention.”

“Oh, but you have it, regardless. All the Count’s attention… Why do you think that is…?”

Will squirmed under her sharp gaze. “I don’t know. Like I said, I’m just here to work.”

“There are some who would say that someone like you… must have some special purpose, for the gods to have allowed your creation. After all, it shouldn’t be possi--“

“ _Lady Bedelia.”_ The Count himself suddenly stepped from the shadow of the same door the woman had entered through. “I had wondered where you wandered off to. You still owe me a dance.” His words were as soft and courteous as ever, but even from this distance, Will could see that the Count’s usual humor was not present.

“I was just introducing myself to your new librarian, Hannibal. My curiosity got the better of me…” She seemed unconcerned to have been caught by the Count, flicking him a small smile. “You have such interesting… _tastes_.” For the first time, Will felt the slightest shadow of cold humor roll from the woman, faint but definitely there.

“Would you be so kind as to join me in returning to the party? I doubt there is anything here for you now that you’ve _sated_ your curiosity.”

Will was getting the distinct impression that the Count was not so much asking as insisting that the woman leave. There was a tenseness in the air that had nothing to do with his empathy.

The woman must have sensed it, too. She only chuckled, murmuring as she moved to his side, “I’m inclined to agree with that.” The Count held open the door for her, and she turned just before exiting to say, “It was nice to finally meet you, Mr. Graham. Ms. Hobbs. I’m sure we’ll see each other around more often.”

Perhaps it was the way she said it, or just Will’s overall impression of her, but it sounded almost like… a threat…?

As the woman stepped out the door, the Count turned his gaze to Will, mouth ticking up slightly at the corners. “Tomorrow, Will.”

“Ah, yes. Tomorrow,” Will answered back quickly.

And with that, the two of them were gone, leaving only Will and Abigail in the library. Will swallowed, replaying the woman’s words in his mind. She had implied something… something about the gods and a special purpose for Will, but what could she have meant by it? What did the _gods_ , or any _god_ , have to do with Will…?

“ _Oh my gods_ -!” Abigail suddenly wheezed, seeming to have finally found her voice again. “That lady was SO pretty! And nice, too! Did you see her dress?!” Abigail practically bounced with giddy excitement. “I hope she comes and visits again. Can you _imagine_ it? I bet she could get me an invite to the parties, too! And show me how to do my hair and look fancy!” Waves of admiration poured off her.

Will frowned, giving her a curious look. “You didn’t think she--well, I mean, she seemed, uh…” Will wasn’t sure how to describe the air of cold dislike that he’d picked up from the woman.

“She was _amazing_! Do you think she likes me? _Ugh_ , I couldn’t say anything the whole time she was here, I was so nervous!”

“Abigail… are you…” Will searched for the right words and landed on, “… _okay_?” Something was off about the girl. Almost like she was so caught up in the impression of the woman that she was completely ignoring the subtext. “That woman… didn’t she seem to you, well, unhappy with what she heard you say?”

“Oh, I’m sure she didn’t mind. A lady like her--she can understand what I meant. She probably doesn’t like all the monsters hanging around here either, but of course, she’s too elegant and polite to make a big deal of it!” Abigail sighed dreamily. “She’s so cool and calm and perfect, isn’t she? I can’t wait to see her again. Do you think she’ll come by tomorrow, too?”

“I--I’m not sure. We’ll see,” Will replied, watching Abigail closely.

_I hope not,_ he thought to himself, clutching his book on vampires closer. He had a bad feeling about the woman….

-^_^-

The Count was dressed impeccably well again the next day, as Will was led to where he stood waiting by a carriage to go on their picnic.

Not for the first time, Will felt under-dressed around the other man. Trying not to think about the many disparities between them, Will gave a nervous smile to the man. He had spent the entire night alternating between watching the partygoers in the gardens below his balcony, reading about the lore of vampires, and making a mental list of all the questions he wanted to ask the man today.

But, now that it was time to leave, Will found himself a bundle of nerves. The Count was an intimidating man for many reasons, and the idea of speaking to him one-on-one with no one to interrupt them was almost overwhelming.

Inside the carriage, the Count sat quiet and patient as they jostled their way through the castle gates and into the city. Will wanted to go ahead and start asking his questions, and he was sure the Count could sense the impatience coming off him. But Will resisted. They would have plenty of time for that when they arrived at wherever they were going.

Where they were going, it turns out, was OUT of the city.

Will stared nervously at the forest surrounding their carriage for several minutes after they had exited the city walls, before finally breaking the silence to ask, “Are we picnicking in one of the smaller villages…?”

The Count smiled his secret smile, and said, “I have a … _favorite spot_ that I think you will appreciate.”

Will nodded, feeling oddly soothed by the Count’s serenity.

The feeling left abruptly when the carriage turned off the main road and began rattling over the rough stones and dips of a much narrower and less-traveled path.

They were IN the Wildes, Will realized, his stomach dropping and cold dread seeping into him.

But the Count didn’t seem worried at all, his eyes turned towards the windows, watching their progress as thick bushes and trees passed by on both sides, seeming to press into the peace of the carriage interior.

_Danger_ , Will thought to himself.

They finally came to a stop nearly thirty minutes later, and the doors to the carriage opened. The Count stood first, stepping out and extending his hand back to help Will out.

Will didn’t move.

“We’re--we’re in the middle of the forest!” He finally whispered, his eyes wide.

The Count looked under his feet at the high grass, then around at the canopy of trees. “Why, yes. It appears we are. Do you intend to spend the picnic inside the carriage, dear Will?”

“But, it’s--it’s dangerous!” Will argued, half-expecting the Count to be mauled by a wild beast at any second.

“I assure you, we will not be disturbed. You have nothing to fear from the forest, Will.” The man extended his hand again, beckoning Will to take it and exit the carriage.

Will hesitated, then sent a few prayers to the goddess of travelers, the Mother of Nature and the Sun God, hoping for their timely intervention in his undoubtedly pending doom.

He took the Count’s hand and stepped out into the field, holding his breath.

Nothing happened.

Will let out his breath, relaxing slowly. He looked around, trying to catch sight of the inevitable bear, or boar, or wolf that would be his demise, but….

… _nothing_.

There was no sign of any beast waiting to attack them from the tree line of the forest nearby.

Beside him, the carriage men were quickly unpacking a case of picnic supplies from off the back of the carriage. No one seemed to feel the presence of danger all around them. Will could only stare at them, blinking. Surely, they had to know the stories! Of all the gods in creation, the God of the Wildes was the most merciless and uncaring. To think that they were planning a picnic right in the uncharitable God’s backyard!

“This way, if you please, Will.” The Count waved Will to follow him, with the carriage men and supplies bringing up the rear. Unsure what else to do, Will stayed in step behind the Count as the man gracefully climbed up several sloping rocks and over the high weeds on the other side. They move through the trees, over more rocks and up one particularly steep embankment to find themselves--

“ _Oh. Wow_ ,” Will breathed, stunned.

They were standing near the banks of a river, water rushing and bubbling merrily. On the shoreline and off to the left was an entire rainbow blanket of wildflowers swaying under the gentle breeze. To the right were more rocks, flattened by water and warming under the heat of the sun.

That was where the carriage men moved to place the large basket and blankets. Once the items were delivered, the men bowed to the Count, and made their way back in the direction of the carriage, leaving Will and the Count alone by the water.

The Count moved to unbutton his jacket, laying it neatly on the flat stone, before unfolding one of the large blankets and spreading it out widely. Then he sat next to the basket, looking at Will expectantly.

Will just continued to stare stupidly at the man, trying to process where they were and what was happening. He had expected a picnic in the city park, or on the green of some quiet area INSIDE the city, or a village, at least. But _this_ \--! How could the other man look so restful and relaxed when they were practically daring the God of the Wildes to smite them?!

Shaking his head, Will moved to plop himself down on the edge of the blanket, deciding that would be an excellent first question.

“Aren’t you a little worried about being out here in the Wildes?”

The man gave a small grin, eyes skimming the tree line and rippling waters of the river. “I visit here quite often, and I rarely have reason to worry. In fact, I find it very peaceful.”

“Well, I feel like I’m about to be something’s _dinner_ ,” Will responded, slightly sullen.

“Is that something you need to fear?” The Count asked, his eyes landing on Will.

“What do you mean?”

“I simply ask if someone with your… _peculiarities_ is ever in real danger of being attacked by a beast?”

Will paused, considering the question. “I… I heal, very quickly. This mortal body doesn’t stay injured for very long,” he answered slowly. “But I’d rather not test having an animal rip me limb from limb, if you don’t mind.”

The Count barked a laugh. “Nor should I wish to find out either, I assure you. And your shadow form…?”

“Nothing can hurt that. At least, nothing has ever been able to hurt me in that form.” Will frowned, thinking. “Not even fire. Why? Do other vampires have to worry about being hurt when they, um, take on shadow form?”

“You borrowed a book about vampires yesterday evening, I understand. What did you learn from it?”

“A lot…” Will answered, wondering how the man had found out about the book he had checked out. “I didn’t know vampires don’t have a separate mortal body like me. That they can solidify their shadow form to look human.”

“And did the book say that they could be harmed?”

“ _I feel like you’re quizzing me,”_ Will mumbled. Then, more loudly, “The books says that their essence is at their center mass, close to where a human heart is. That if you puncture them there in either form, they can die. Like the stories about taking a stake to their heart. And the sun can bring them death, too.”

“Be destroyed.”

“What?”

“Vampires are not technically alive; therefore, they do not die. They are destroyed. Sent back to the nether realm from whence they were created by the God of Death.”

“Does that… does that mean I get destroyed and sent back to the, uh, nether realm, too, then?”

“That is an excellent existential question, Will. What do you think?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Were you born or created?”

“I… I think I was born. I was a baby once. I remember being a toddler. Do other vampires grow from children?”

“Your book should have answered that,” the Count teased.

Will huffed, vaguely annoyed. “It says they are created with souls that have passed and been cursed by the gods. That they take on the immortal form of their past life.”

“Ever had a past life, Will?”

“Not that I’m aware of….”

“Ever upset a god?”

“Probably more than a few, but not in a way that I think would get me cursed to drink blood for an eternity. I feel like I’d remember that….”

“What do you remember, Will…?”

“Of a past life and angry gods? Nothing. I just remember… being a small child. I remember my dad raising me, and I remember being… hungry.”

“And your mother? She was a vampire, I take it?”

“Yeah, she, uh, seduced my dad and fed on him one night. Then she dropped me off a few months later. I look like my dad, so I can’t argue the family connection. But…” Will turned from where he was playing with several blades of grass to look at the Count. “Your book says vampires can’t have children. That they’re infertile?”

“That has been the case. Until _you_ appeared, it seems. I have many vampires in my acquaintance who have… _manipulated_ their way into the beds of humans. There has never been a child resulting from the act, to my best knowledge.”

“ _Great,”_ Will said sarcastically. “So that makes me some kind of cosmic fluke of nature, then?”

“Or…”

“Or… what?”

“Or it is possible that the goddess of fertility intentionally saw to your creation.”

Will stared at him, stunned to silence for a moment. “Why would she want a--a half-vampire to exist? And to what end? I mean, all I’ve done in the last twenty-eight years is run a little bookshop. That’s nothing special.”

“Oh. You can’t think of any other way you may have specially influenced some events…? No significant things have happened in your twenty-eight years…?”

Will’s mind immediately flashed back to the night of the fire.

To the Stag.

“There was… one thing,” he finally answered, his voice low, barely audible over the sounds of the river.

“Oh? Do tell.”

“There was… a few years ago, I… I wasn’t supposed to leave my body for too long. Or go into the woods in my shadow form. My dad had special rules about it. But, I--I wanted to see what was out there, outside the village. So, one night, I went out to explore, and…”

“And…?”

“There was a Stag. Except… it turns out it wasn’t really a Stag.”

“Oh?”

“It was… all a huge mess. Everything went wrong that night. Abigail’s father, Mr. Hobbs, he was hunting that evening, and he saw the Stag. He shot it. I tried to stop him, but—" Will swallowed thickly, the memory washing over him like a wave. “I was seen, by Mr. Hobbs. He ran back to the village, to his house, and I chased him, to try and calm him down so he wouldn’t tell anyone else about me. But the Stag followed us. And it--I think it was really angry at Hobbs. There were flames, like it was on fire, and it set the Hobbs’ house on fire. I ran back home to my body and my father, and we ran back together. But Hobbs was acting crazy, calling me a demon.” It was all rushing out of him now, years of pent-up fear and emotions were pouring out. “And the Stag was outside, and Hobbs wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t let his family leave. He was so scared… Then, my dad… We were able to get Abigail out, but by then, the other villagers had come running and the Stag was gone, and Hobbs was yelling about a demon and murder, and it looked like my dad… like he—"

Will had to stop, fists clenched from the memory. The faces of the villagers as they yelled that Will’s father had set the Hobbs’s house on fire, that he was mad.

And Abigail’s pale face… struck dumb and silent by everything she had seen or may have seen. The fear that she would tell the villagers right then. That Will could be exposed.

But Abigail had kept his secret. Maybe out of fear or worry that she would sound crazy, herself. Or possibly, out of some debt to Will and his father for pulling her out of the fire.

Whatever the case, Will owed her. She could have easily shared whatever she had seen that night, regardless of the consequences, but, even despite her dislike of ‘monsters’, she had kept his secret.

“I don’t know how much Abigail really saw, or how much of it she understands, but she… she never told on me.”

“Is that why you brought her with you?” the Count asked, breaking his silence from listening to Will’s incredible tale.

“I… well, yeah, I guess. She really wanted to leave the village, and I owed her…”

“I see…” the Count said pensively. “And did the Stag ever visit you again…?”

“Only in my nightmares.”

“Why only in nightmares? It sounds as if you have nothing to fear from this Stag. You say you tried to protect it from the Hobbs man. It set his house on fire, not yours.”

“True,” Will admitted thoughtfully. “I guess it’s just associated with bad memories.”

“Tell me, what did you think of the Stag, when you first saw it?”

“I remember thinking…” Will tried to find the right words. “It was beautiful. That’s why when Hobbs shot at it, I had to stop him. It wasn’t right, to kill something so…”

“Perhaps that was your purpose.”

“Huh?” Will asked dumbly, his mind still locked onto the memory of the Stag standing in the moonlight, huge and majestic.

“Perhaps you were created to cross paths with that Stag.”

“But it wasn’t a Stag, not really,” Will argued. “It--the way it lit itself on fire and attacked Hobbs… Iit was smarter than a Stag should be….”

“What do you think it could have been then? If not a stag?”

“Honestly…?” Will asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.

The Count leaned in closer, giving Will his full attention.

“I think it was some sort of god. Maybe the god of stags, or something.” His voice was barely audible, in case the forest itself was listening to his secret.

He expected the Count to laugh at the idea, but the man nodded his head instead. “I think that very likely,” he said in the same low voice as Will. “And I think that it is no coincidence that you and that particular entity met that night.”

“But why? What does that one horrible night have to do with my being born?”

“Another very good question,” the Count answered, his voice raising back to normal, as his smile returned. “I wonder… what could the gods be thinking, creating you and putting you there on that particular night…?”

The Count let the question sit for several long moments, seeming to weigh it heavily. Will didn’t have an answer, so he stayed quiet, remembering.

After a while, the Count turned to the picnic basket and began pulling things from it: small bowls of food, a bottle of wine, several plates and utensils.

“I--I don’t eat,” Will found himself explaining, watching the small feast be set out.

“Nor do I expect you to, dear Will. Unless you choose, of course.” The man pulled out another bottle and presented it to Will. “This may be to your taste.”

“Is it… blood?” Will asked, eyeing the thick red contents warily.

“Yes, animal blood. From my finest horse.”

Will hesitated. He only ever drank from animals directly, and even then, always in his shadow form. He wasn’t even sure if he could drink in this human form. The few times he had tried to ingest anything had been… _messy._

“I… I don’t know that I can.” He handed the bottle back apologetically.

The Count only smiled with understanding. “I had meant to ask about your… preferences. Do you never take from humans…?” He busied himself with pouring a glass of expensive-looking wine for himself, swirling it and sipping carefully.

“No. Never. It was one of my father’s rules.”

“Do you think it would be so different than drinking from animals?”

And this was Will’s chance to ask one of his questions. “I don’t know… is it? You said you know a lot of vampires. Do they ever talk about the difference?”

“They do seem to be in agreement that drinking from humans is more… satisfying. They even describe the feeling of emotions and memories that come with the meal.”

“Oh, I see.” Will nodded, allowing himself to picture it. It was true, he could feel animals’ emotions before and during his feeding on them. How much more intense would it be with a human?

“If you would rather not try the stock I brought, then perhaps…”

Will looked up at him, pulled from his thoughts, to see the man gesturing at several deer that were hesitantly grazing nearby in the wildflower fields.

“Oh, uh, I’ve never… from deer before…” Will stuttered, eyeing the animals curiously. “I guess it’ll be alright. To, um, try.” He winced at his nervousness. “You don’t mind if I…?” Will gestured to the animals, feeling embarrassed at the idea of feeding in front of the Count.

“Of course not, please do,” the Count readily agreed. “Please don’t feel uncomfortable because of me, Will.”

“Right, well then, I’ll just…” Will gave himself some space to lay out on the large blanket. Once he felt comfortable with the position, he

_R  
O  
S  
E  
_  
Up and out.

Turning his gaze to the other man with his phantom eyes, Will saw the Count staring calmly at his shadow form. Again, the man looked different. The shadow of antlers rose from his head. His human shape pulsing and wavering, like a mirage. And his piercing eyes watching Will, closer now than in the stables just days before, seeming almost red in the sunlight.

It would make him blush if he had the ability to do so in this form. Instead, his shadow just buzzed erratically for several seconds before calm finely begins to settle over him. Trying not to think about the pair of sharp eyes watching him, Will walked carefully over to the deer, careful not to scare them away. It was shocking the amount of color the flowers seemed to have taken on--so much vibrance, like Will could see the life rushing out of the petal, glowing almost, with such vividness. And the deer were emitting such peace and happiness as they strolled through the wild plumes of color. It was enough to take Will’s breath away, if he had any.

To his happy surprise, they seemed to welcome him, stepping closer and sniffing at his phantom-like hand as he moved to stroke over them. He had expected them to be skittish at the sight of him, like some horses tend to be. To somehow be aware of the predator sneaking close to them.

Instead, the deer seemed eager to be closer to Will. It was… unexpected, to say the least. But today seemed to be full of surprises, so Will simply bowed his head and fed gratefully. Waves of peace rolled off the animal as Will sank his ghostlike teeth in. The rush of life filled him, wild and bubbling, coursing over and through him. It tasted wild and free, like the forest itself. Similar to his usual horses, but… more… somehow.

Will reveled in it, careful to pull himself away before the animal could grow too weak.

As he pulled back, he gently pet along its dipping head, feeling a sense of joy as the sun shone around him. He was surrounded by so much wild beaty and nature. It was…

… _perfect._

_A moment of true and wonderful peace._

Will would have stayed there, petting the deer as they moved to try and bump his shadow form and nudge at him merrily.

But he felt an almost alien sensation, like the wind through his hair. Turning with surprise, Will saw the Count had moved closer to where Will’s body lay, and he was--

Will’s shadow form wavered erratically in shock as he watched the Count run his hands gently through Will’s wild curls.

Will stopped petting the deer to hurry back over, panicking at the sight and feeling of his body being touched. It felt bizarre, though not necessarily uncomfortable. Still, it was strange… almost… intimate.

“Do they taste different?” the Count asked, lifting his eyes from Will’s body to his shadow form with a gentle smile.

Will froze under the gaze, not sure what to do.

Finally, he nodded.

The Count nodded back, removing his hand from Will’s head and leaning back to bask in the sunlight.

Will took the opportunity to drift quickly back

_D  
O  
W  
N_

And into his body, the feeling of static all over as he took back residence.

He swallowed thickly, sitting back up. The Count was close enough now to touch back. Will’s hands twitched, remembering the odd substance of the other man’s form, and the antlers.

“What… uh, what are you?” he finally asked the question he had been wondering the most over the last few days, ever since seeing the man’s form with his phantom eyes for the first time.

“What do you think I am?” the Count asked back.

“I have no idea,” Will answered honestly. He hesitated before saying, “Not a human.”

The Count smiled brightly, opening his eyes and glancing to Will. “Then what could I be?”

“Are you… a small god?”

“Perhaps I could be. What type of god would you make me, Will?”

Will’s heart pounded in his chest at the admission that the not-man in front of him may be an actual god. “I--I wouldn’t dare guess.”

“Afraid of offending me?” the not-man asked easily, turning his twinkling eyes to Will.

“Yes,” Will replied honestly.

“But we’ve been having such a free conversation. Must we end it now because of what I may be…? Tell me, am I suddenly more cold and fearsome now than I was just a few short minutes ago?”

“…no.”

“Then why be anything less than as honest and open as you were when you were telling me of your past? Does what I am change how you see me?”

“I know it shouldn’t…” Will still hesitated before admitting, “You seem to be… nice. Especially towards me. I wouldn’t want to say anything to change that…”

“For my part, dear Will, I wouldn’t have you afraid of me. I prefer you to be at ease around me. It’s charming.”

Will flushed darkly. “I--um, thank you.”

“So, what do you think? Am I a wrathful god of something? Or a friendly god?”

“I really don’t know. You… you have a lot of books. Are you, maybe, the god of reading, or of written knowledge?”

“No, and I don’t believe there is a specific god who claims dominion over that. Not yet, at least.”

“The god of…parties?”

The Count just scoffed, “No, I’m afraid that role is already taken by someone else. Try again.”

Will nodded, really starting to think hard now. A god with antlers. Red eyes. Isn’t afraid to come out into the Wildes. So, some kind of forest entity. “I don’t know… You could be the god of anything forest-related. Any animal god…”

“Would it help if I said we’ve met before…?” And now the Count was fully smiling, his teeth seeming sharp, almost like a predator’s.

Will stared, more confused than ever. “I… I don’t remember meeting a god before…”

“You’re smarter than that, Will.”

“I… I don’t remember…”

The Count sighed, turning his bright grin away to the stream as he said, “Such a poor memory… and only a few minutes ago, you called me beautiful.”

Will frowned, his mind racing. “I didn’t—"

And then it hit him, struck him like a blow.

The breath whooshed out of him as his whole body locked up in shock.

The Count turned to him, his piercing eyes laughing. “Have you got it now?”

“You--you… you’re not…” Will could barely even say the words, dumbstruck as he was. “The--the Stag…?” he finally managed to whisper.

The Count nodded, chuckling. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, dear Will. I have wanted to give you my thanks for intervening those several years ago.”

-O_O-


	6. A little Party (Never Killed Nobody)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Thanks for all the wonderful comments so far. Hope you all enjoy!

To listen to my sultry tones reading this story, click the links below:

And for mobile users, and those who want to listen offsite, please click the link below to be whisked away to my DropBox account:  
'We Dark Things- Chapter 6:' [Chapter Six MP3 Link](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/ok9j1b7gwclscc1/WDT-CH.%206%20-%207%3A25%3A20%2C%207.24%20PM.mp3?dl=0)

-^_^-

“It’s… it’s really… you?”

“Yes, dear Will.”

“Are you… the god of stags, then?” Will asks, scanning the other man for any sign of the stag he’d seen those many nights ago. _How could this be possible…?_

“No, I can’t claim to be the god of stags. They have a god, already. One that chooses not to take human form.” The Count smiles patiently at Will, as if he is enjoying the guessing game.

“Then… which god are you?” Will finally asks, breathless.

“That is something you’ll have to figure out on your own,” Hannibal answers cheerfully.

“Are you… a god that I would have heard of…?”

“Oh, I humbly believe so.”

Will ponders this, frustrated. There were just SO MANY deities in existence. The Count could be any one of them taking human form. It was hopeless to guess….

Finally, Will gives up, and hazards with a teasing tone, “Are you the Great Goddess Anoia*…?”

To Will’s shock, the Count lets out a belting laugh. With more joviality than he had ever expressed before, he responds, “No, no I am afraid I can’t claim that title, either. She is certainly one of the most popular of the gods, is she not?”

Will smiles shyly back, heart fluttering oddly at the thrill of making the (not) man laugh. But a thought occurs to him that makes his smile drop abruptly.

“Is… Abigail in danger? Because of her dad?”

The Count sighs and leans back contentedly. “From me?”

“From--from ANYONE.”

“I must admit, I have given some thought to eating her. Though, for her… _rude_ … behavior more so than her parentage.”

Will sucks in a breath at the admission, suddenly frantic for the young girl’s safety. He shifts hurriedly from his comfortable position to kneel closer to the count, hovering anxiously.

“Please, don’t hurt Abigail. She’s really not a bad person. She’s just… young.”

The Count looks over to Will consideringly. “Do you feel a responsibility to her, Will?”

“It’s not that! Really, I just…” He searches desperately for a way to explain. “It’s--it’s my ability. Sensing other people’s feelings and emotions. I know WHY she acts the way she does. She’s just scared and awkward. You must understand, you can feel emotions, too! Doesn’t it make you, uh…” Will stumbles over his words, trying to explain.

“Pity her?” the Count supplies, watching Will closely.

“It’s not pity, it’s--it’s empathy! How can you feel what she feels and still dislike her for it?”

“Simple. I believe in natural selection. Specifically, I believe that rudeness is a personality trait that makes one the most deserving of being prey to a hungry beast. Humans, unlike most animals in Nature, have the capacity to be civilized as a means of self-preservation. A person who chooses not to behave in a civilized manner is more deserving of being devoured than any so-called lesser animal. They should be first on the dinner plate before any other.”

Will is too stunned at this logic to even respond for several seconds. He can not believe he is sitting in the bright sun, surrounded by more beauty then he had ever seen, discussing the reasoning behind eating people. It is a bizarre sensation. And the Count looks as if he were discussing the weather, or any other light-hearted topic.

Will swallows thickly, truly understanding for the first time that this was not a human sitting casually beside him.

“That’s…” he murmurs, almost to himself. “That’s not fair.”

“Nature is not fair,” The Count answers matter-of-factly with that same easy tone.

“People deserve to be--to be understood. To be… seen.”

The Count turns sharp eyes to Will at that. “A profound thought. We all wish to be seen as we see ourselves.” He turns his gaze away, apparently thinking hard on Will’s words. “Creatures like you and I are able to see. Perhaps that should make us more sympathetic. More understanding. For my part, however…” He turns glittering eyes back to Will. “The weakness of humans just makes me hungry.”

Will shudders under his gaze. “Those are the words of a predator.”

The Count’s smile is shockingly genuine, like Will has just given him a precious gift. His teeth are slightly sharper than a human’s, and Will can easily imagine this creature biting flesh from bone with ease. Just like the conversation differed so greatly from the environment they were in, this man’s image of civil grace differed from his true viciousness.

“And you, Will?” he asks softly, leaning so close that Will was forced to move backwards several inches where he sat. “Are you a predator? Or are you prey…?”

Will is silent, unsure how to answer.

“Join me for my party tomorrow night,” the Count whispers, still leaning close.

The apparent change in topic has Will blinking from his disturbing thoughts.

“What?” he finds himself whispering back.

The Count just continues smiling with his twinkling eyes. “Tomorrow night. Attend my party as a guest.”

“I--I don’t think I’d be very good company.”

“I disagree.”

And whether it was his shredded nerves from their conversation, or the mesmerizing pull of the Count’s eyes locked onto his, Will finds himself nodding.

-^o^-

“It’s not fair!”

Will winces at the emotions pouring off of Abigail as the girl stomps her foot angrily.

“We’ve been over this, Abigail. You weren’t invited.”

“Then ask for me to be! He listens to you!”

“Abigail, please. Just… Listen, I’m already really uncomfortable about this. You cannot go to the party tonight. That is final. Maybe another time, I can--I can try and get you invited.”

This makes the girl pause slightly in her tirade, seeming to weigh the promise against her current frustration at missing this evening’s party. “But I want to go tonight! I hate staying in my stupid room listening to everybody have fun!”

Exhausted, Will just ignores her in favor of adjusting his stiff suit. It had been one of the outfits in his closet, and a far cry from his usual attire. He felt more awkward than ever wearing it.

Will is beginning to second- (and third- and fourth-) guess his decision to attend Count Lecter’s party. Best case scenario, he doesn’t humiliate himself.

Shaking off his nerves, and Abigail’s final complaints, he makes his way to the doors leading out to the gardens where the party was already in full swing.

The grounds are crowded with well-dressed people laughing and drinking, just as Will had frequently observed from his room in the tower.

But now, to be standing amid the merriment, he felt overwhelmed by the noise and emotions. He finds a convenient wall to put his back to and tries desperately to put up walls against the many feelings of joy and excitement. His heart beats fast, almost too fast. Not even five minutes in and he is already thinking of the comforts of his library or his room. Why had he agreed to this again…?

_“Will._ ”

Ah, yes. That was why.

A sense of sudden calm overtook him at the sight of Hannibal approaching, wearing his usual half-smile.

Maybe it was the cool night air, the elegant music, or even the emotions of the crowds of people around them, but…

Will’s heart fluttered at the sight of the man.

_FLUTTERED._

It gives Will a sense of giddy joy, of serenity and peace.

The clusters of chatting people melted out of his consciousness, replaced by one man.

Well, one _god._

And he certainly looks the part, wearing a perfectly fitted suit, with his hair combed back. High cheekbones and sharp, laughing eyes.

_Ye Gods_ , how could anyone ever mistake him for a mere human? He practically exudes power.

And Will feels himself wanting to flutter to the Count like a moth to a flame.

“Welcome, Will,” the Count greets warmly, joining Will with his back to the wall companionably, as if to take in the crowd as well. “I’m glad you decided to join the party.”

The eyes of many of the party guests followed the Count to where they were standing, but to his surprise, Will barely feels the stares. The Count’s presence next to him is so great that everything else seems to dim in comparison.

“It would have been rude not to show,” Will answers quietly, almost shy to be having the Count’s full attention while the rest of the party looked on enviously. It was the strangest feeling, to be so affected by the other man. Will clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to shake off the odd sensation.

Beside him, the Count chuckles. “And you wouldn’t dare offend me by being rude?”

“I wouldn’t want to be rude. Not just to you, but in general,” Will answers as honestly as he can.

“A respectable quality to have, which I find many lack.” The Count turns slightly to face Will, leaning in close to whisper, “Come. I have several guests that I would like you to meet.”

With that, the Count steps away from the safety of the wall behind them, gesturing for Will to follow at his side. And, despite the dread of being introduced to strangers, Will finds himself stepping forward to take his place at the Count’s side.

Walking alongside the Count is eye-opening for Will.

His entire life, people had mostly ignored him or barely seen him. It had been to Will’s benefit, so he had never complained the many times he had been almost walked into or backed into. He was used to having to dodge his way through crowds, always keeping his head and eyes down.

But with the Count leading the way, people not only parted well before they passed, but whole conversations stopped. Will is actually relieved to see that he was not the only one so affected by the Count. It seems as if everyone was left partially stunned by his mere presence.

Making their way through the garden paths feels almost like they are in a parade. It is only the Count’s hand at his back that keeps Will grounded. The warmth of it through his jacket, gently pressing and guiding Will, is reassuring as they make their way along.

Finally, they approach a small group of only three people who each look as out of place as Will feels. In fact, as the Count zeros in on the three, they all begin to move away, as if they were in the way of the Count reaching his intended target.

“Ah, a moment, if you please,” the Count calls out before they can scatter properly. “Misters Dameter and Kringle, and Miss Brooke.” The Count indicates each of the stunned people. “May I introduce Will Graham? He has recently assumed the duties as my librarian.”

Will felt not only the eyes of the three, but everyone within strained earshot stare openly at him. Will, being an expert at awkward situations, feels the sudden urge to rescue the speechless group.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” he manages. Then, to his own surprise (and partially due to the hand still resting on his lower back), he adds, “I have to admit that my new position is a bit… intimidating. The Count has so many fantastic books, I’m tempted to read them all at once.” He stops, his mouth snapping shut in mortification from having said so much, but at that moment the sensation of fear and wracked nerves hit him, clearly coming from the three guests. Out of desperation to calm their nerves, he finds himself continuing despite his own anxiety. “I’m reading several now, mostly about the older Gods, and how they contrast with the more recent gods. It’s so interesting, how the newer gods interact with humanity, don’t you think?”

And that was it. The only life preserver he had to throw to them. It was up to them whether they sank or swam now because Will had already used more words then he had in his personal bank for the whole evening.

Thankfully, the three were nodding agreement, which was something, at least.

“I think you’ll find, Will,” the Count suddenly interjects, “that you are in good company for your reading interests. Mr. Kringle happens to be the author of the latest book on the subject of Old Gods’ communication methods with High Priests and Priestesses.”

Will observed that Mr. Kringle is only able to continue nodding at the mention of his work by the Count, and is beginning to sweat profusely. The sense of speechless horror wafting from the man has Will’s empathy kicking into overdrive.

“That’s… that’s so interesting. I haven’t had a chance to read it, yet. I wonder, did you get a chance to interview any gods in person for your research?”

The man seems to finally overcome his intimidation and manages a small, “Yes.”

“Which ones were you able to interview?” Will is desperate to prevent an uncomfortable silence.

The man blinks at Will, before adjusting his glasses and saying, “Uh, well. The goddess of cats was nice enough to sit down with me. And the God of the Western Winds wrote me back with a… a very nice letter. But mostly it was the Priests and Priestesses with whom I spoke. Er, very nice people. Especially the ones in the Capitol. Very obliging.”

“I…” Mr. Dameter suddenly chimes it a bit too loudly, “I have also had the pleasure of speaking with the clergy from the Capitol. They are incredibly happy to do interviews. Very, ahem, proud of doing the Gods’ work.”

“Oh.” Will grasps onto the thread he was given. “And what do you do, Mr. Dameter?”

Put on the spot, the man seemsto freeze, but after several seconds, he manages, “I--I um, well, I work in the Elder Gods’ section of the Lindon City library.”

“Oh! A fellow librarian!” Will is genuinely excited. “Before I came to work here this last week, I was responsible for the Book Shop in my village. Of course, we only had a few books on the Elder Gods, and all later editions. It must be remarkably busy, especially keeping up with the Moon Goddess and Sun God. I sometimes suspect They are in competition to have Their Words be the latest in print.”

“Oh, they absolutely are! We’ve timed Them! As soon as One puts out Orders for their followers, the Other will have their next batch out within the week! The _paperwork_!”

“If you will all excuse me, I have to attend to my other guests,” the Count casually inserts before stepping quietly away.

With his departure, Will feels the ease return to the group. Will finds himself able to breath again without the air of tension.

“You know,” Mr. Kringle speaks up in the silence following the Count’s departure, “I tried to interview the Sun and Moon Gods, and you know what I got? A standard letter thanking me for my interest and worship. Didn’t even have Their real blessings at the bottom. Just a stamp and a note that it was transcribed by Their Head Secretary. Even the small gods that answered my letters blessed their responses themselves…”

“Well, that’s… a bit rude,” Will hazards, not sure if he would offend one of the party.

“S’ fine,” the man answers, slightly sullen. “I made Their sections in my book the shortest.”

There was a pause following this, then all four of the gathered burst into laughter.

-^_^-

“Her supple body leaned towards me to answer me with a voice barely more than a breath that, yes, in fact she did consider a little rainfall on Sundays to be perfect for her kind.”

“NO!” Ms. Brookes shouts over the sounds of rolling laughter, “You’re not reading it right! Give it here!”

She takes the book from a Mr. Farragut eagerly. Striking a pose where she draped herself over the plump form of Mr. Farragut she began in a breathless voice:

“Her _supple_ body… _leaned_ …towards me with a voice- _barely more than breath-_ that, _yes_!, in fact she did consider a _little rainfall_ on Sundays to be… _perfect_ … for her kind.”

The library roars with the sound of laughter. Will had his head back, belting out the heartiest laugh of his life as Mr. Farragut stuttered, red-faced, “Well, I mean, if you read it like _that_ -!”

“Put it to a vote!” Mr. Dameter shouts over the laughter, “All who think the author was sleeping with the dandelion goddess say ‘aye’!”

There was a loud chorus of ‘Ayes’, including Will. Even Mr. Farragut finally concedes with an ‘Aye’.

Will was sure he had never had such a good time in his entire life as he had been having throughout this evening.

It had started out tepid, with Will and his group of three making light small talk and generally trying to huddle together with each other, away from the more beautiful and lively partygoers. However, through the course of the evening, the Count had frequently stopped by their growing group to drop off more people.

And to Will’s subsequent delight, they were all people who, much like him, were out of place and with a penchant for reading and subtle humor.

Will was having such great conversations with their grouping that at the first opportunity that a book he knew was in the library arose, he happily encouraged them all to follow him inside to read the exact quote in question.

Now, it was nearly four in the morning, and Will could see the signs that the guests were finally tiring out. Each of them began to warmly say there goodbyes and make their promises to write him or take the next opportunity to attend the Count’s party (if invited back, of course) for the express purpose of continuing this or that debate with Will.

Will shows the last few out with a self-conscious goodbye as they effused cheerful remarks about how good a time they had and what a pleasure it had been to meet Will.

Once the door to the library was shut behind them, Will breaths a relaxed sigh, smiling to himself. He had never known that he could enjoy himself so thoroughly. And more surprising, he had been able to keep up with the conversation and match wits with some truly bright minds. Overall, he could not believe how… _successfu_ l the night had been.

Grinning he turned to begin extinguishing the lights, when-

_“Ahh-!”_

“Hello Will. I trust you had a good evening…?” The Count asks from where he is seated in one of the only recently vacated couches.

Will was sure he had not been there only a moment ago…

“I- yes. Yes, I actually had an exceptionally good time.” Will answers honestly, barely able to keep the smile from his face.

It must have been contagious, because the Count gifts Will with a too sharp smile of his own. “Excellent. I trust my guests were…well-behaved?”

“Oh, yes. They were…well, they were actually wonderful. All of them that you introduced me to.”

“I see. Can I take that to mean you will be attending more of my parties in the future…?”

Will blushes, hesitant. “That _depends_ …”, he answers, looking curiously to the Count. He had a _suspicion._ “Did…did you invite each of those people just for me to have company to talk to?”

The Count’s smile broadens, eyes twinkling. “How clever you are, dear Will.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Will protests.

“I assure you,” the Count says as he stands, “that it was very little trouble, and well worth it to see you enjoy yourself.” The man smoothed his fine jacket as he walks towards Will. “So…if I can continue to promise good company for you, will you agree to attend my parties more frequently?”

As the Count grew closer, Will finds himself smiling back, “Yes. I-I’d like that very much.”

“ _Fantastic_.”

And without another word, the Count leans in to place a gentle kiss to Will’s lips.

“Have a good morning, Will.”

“ _Y-yes…?_ " Will stammers, too stunned to say anything else.

The Count bows and exits, leaving Will standing alone in the library.

-O_O-

**Author's Note:**

> I feed off kudos and comments. Please don't let me starve...


End file.
